


The Girl in the Silver Cloak

by DreamPrincess2591



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Amnesia, Blood and Injury, Brotherhood, Conflict, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Dreams and Nightmares, Earth, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family, Fear, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Hallucinations, Heartache, Insomnia, Loneliness, Loss of Control, Mandalorian Culture, Mystery, Pain, Panic, Romance, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Superpowers, Suspicions, Trauma, Trust Issues, Visions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23283115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamPrincess2591/pseuds/DreamPrincess2591
Summary: When a sixteen-year-old girl was discovered alone in the facility of Kamino, no one knew how to handle it. She was met with suspicion from her hosts, accused of espionage and kept hidden away from the outside world.To the Kaminoans, a puzzling guest.To the clone troopers, a dear friend and sister.To a certain Clone Captain, something more.But the truth behind her past was a mystery even to herself. Apart from her name, she retains no memories of her former life. They come to her in dreams, but the nightmares distort them with echoes of the future as well.Three years passed and still no answers.Then, the Clone Wars began...
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62





	1. Amnesia

Before, there was nothing.

It was total darkness. It surrounded everything, ate up everything in its path.

She is, however, aware of her own mind.

She was blissfully unaware of being within nothingness in the silence of serenity. It kept her safe from never-ending obstacles and the consequences of choosing. It was strange that it was supposed to bother her so much because it was the new normal for her.

But over time, she realises the darkness had robbed her of her senses, suffocating her body like a blanket tangled around her and replace it with paralysing fear. She cannot get a sense of anything important at all, pain, life, death. Her imagination supplied many fantastical, bestial figments that lurk beyond her vision. The only evidence of her being is the steady beat of her heart and the cool air in her lungs. She knew her eyes were still there because she can feel the wet moisture behind them.

Within seconds, she realises she was unconscious.

She lay sprawled on a hard floor, muscles cramped and unable to move.

Aside from her own shallow breathing, there is nothing but the wind howling above her. She wanted to use all her senses, to feel for whatever it is. She is aware of the coldness of the air stealing the warmth. She is shivering because her clothes are soaked through from the water dripping down her neck, down her chest and over her nose. The chill alone freezes her wet skin and the little brain power she can muster. She could focus on nothing but the cold. She is desperate for dryness and warmth, especially for a blanket.

As she sniffles and inhales the faint, sterile fragrance in the air, she heard something else and held her breath to listen carefully.

It is familiar and is coming from below her.

Rumbling.

Thumping.

It was the sounds of the ocean; rough waves rushing back and forth constantly underneath her.

There must be a thunderstorm raging outside.

Yet, it was so soothing that it relaxes her as exhaustion seeps into her bones. But she fought not to be lulled to sleep.

As she rouses from her heavy slumber, she lets out a groan and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Her whole body is sore all over from lying uncomfortably in a sprawled position on the hard floor. It was as if she were borne by the ocean waves and left abandoned on the shore.

Slowly and reluctantly, she began to open her eyes. Her eyelids flicker open to a room bathed in harsh brightness, forcing her to close her weak eyes.

Her heart was pounding in her chest. She thought for a moment that she was blind. She was not certain that she could see at all. But she longs for the light that had long eluded her.

She inhales a deep breath and gently squints her eyes open.

Everything is so blurry.

For a second, she did not know where she was or how she came to be here. She blinks, close her eyes and blinks again.

As she continues blinking, the blurriness is fading, and her surroundings were becoming crisper.

Much to her relief, she was no longer lost in darkness.

She can see everything clearly now.

Now that she is awake, she half wonders if she were still dreaming as she struggles to take in the brightly lit corridor that hurt her eyes.

There was no daylight.

Instead, it was the artificial lights streaming from the sleek white floor that kept flickering constantly. But it was still dark, even with them on.

She jolted in fear.

 _Where am I?_ She thought.

Her migraine is pounding against her head. She moves her stiff jaw and her mouth is dry.

From her angled vision, she looked at the regular clothes she is dressed in to fit her petite figure such as an magenta plaid shirt over her purple shirt marked _Metallica_ with lightning bolts and an electric chair, dark jeans and low converse pink shoes. One of the white shoelaces is loose and damaged at the ends.

Her wet hair, darkened by the dripping water, is draped and stuck across her eyes. She softly raised her right hand to brush the soaked strands of her hair away from her face. She wrings them out to see it resembles a sweet caramel, a smooth blend of light brown and orange.

She analysed her unfamiliar surroundings of the empty corridor in a lazy way.

She glanced up at the black clouds sprawling across the sky, dominating and billowing in from everywhere. In the silence comes low crackles of thunder, rolling across over her. Streaks of white-hot lightening splits the sky, banging so loud, and then they are gone.

She spotted a jagged hole in the glass roof. It was as if an explosion had torn its way through recently, letting the downpour outside to shower on her freezing body.

Between the crashing waves, the howling wind and heavy rain, she cannot hear above the racket that wailed and pounded on the rest of the intact glass roof.

As far as she can tell, she is alone inside this quiet place.

There was no sign of another person.

In her waking life, she is left with this lonely feeling of detachment to explore in the empty void of emotions. It was no longer the pleasure it was before awakening. She grew tired of lying sideways on the hard floor.

Groaning, she tried to roll over slowly on her back but was unable to. She moves again but flinched when her chest is flared with pain and cried out. She felt tears brimming in the corners of her eyes, stinging and blurring her eyesight. She struggled to focus when her vision swam so sickeningly that it forced her into a fetal position. She did not feel it until a warm spot spreads from her chest. She can feel this same warm liquid running down her side.

Something is wrong.

But she had no idea how it happened.

She suddenly started coughing that sends a sharp wave of agony through her body. She covers her mouth until it finally settles and subsides.

When she looks at her hand, her eyes widen, and her stomach lurched with a sickening fear. She swallowed thickly to quell the bile rising in her throat. Her senses may be sluggish but she is alert enough to know the truth.

Her delicate hand is covered in red paint.

No.

Blood.

Her own blood.

Her hand is shaking uncontrollably, betraying the intense emotions that refuses to be buried.

She rolled her head over and saw all the blood leaking into a small puddle down the floor next to her, and how bright it looked. She places her hand over her wet chest to futilely cease the bleeding. She can see her warm blood is soaking through her formerly purple rock band shirt.

Her adrenaline must be already up because it took a while for her to feel the pain. It slowly subsides to a hot, dull one.

The rest is a blur as the adrenaline faded.

Once she felt it, it was as if a hot poker stabbed into her chest had exploded into white hot at the same time.

It was the worst pain she has ever felt in her life.

Whimpering, she snapped her eyes shut. She grits her teeth and clenched her other hand into a fist while wriggling her weak body about the place.

She was on fire. The wound was burning her alive, that stinging sensation in her chest that hurt like hell.

She is panting for breath. She could not breathe. She knew she is drowning in her own blood.

The things in her vision grew fuzzy.

She was feeling tired and is ready to close her eyes to take a long nap. Her own limbs were becoming numb everywhere.

She never expected to die so soon after awakening in this strange realm. As much as her subconscious has to offer, her forgotten dreams did not matter to her anymore.

No one was coming to save her.

A quick whoosh echoed down the glass corridor behind her, filling it in with white light.

She is startled awake. She could have sworn she can hear alarms blaring away in a distance.

That could only mean an emergency.

But to what?

The storm?

Or something else?

In those confusing moments, she is so terrified and breathless. The confusing thoughts in her foggy mind has her trapped in a bizarre nightmare. It was hers alone where she is half conscious; only partially alert and awake.

It was all part of the fantasy.

The floor she was resting her head against has a dull thumping echoing in her sensitive ears.

Footsteps.

She can hear footsteps.

It sounded like a baritone voice talking nearby.

Someone else was here.

She wanted to run, but it was near impossible to move her heavy body. Even if she could, she had nowhere to retreat.

As she lies shivering and afraid, this stranger marches into the glass corridor with his black pistol raised. He immediately began investigating and is looking around with his double-sided headlights.

With a beep, the stranger accesses his communication device to speak with someone. “This is CT-7567,” he reported, his modulated voice frustrated. “I’m afraid the lightning strike has caused quite some damage in the west sector. There’s a breach in the glass ceiling and the lights keep flickering. Send the maintenance droids to clean up this...”

Then, CT-7567 ceases talking as his footsteps have falter to a stop. His bright headlights suddenly turned to shone over the small figure he spotted collapsed on the floor ahead of him.

He saw her.

She snapped her eyes shut and froze up her entire body, unwilling to move an inch. She was struggling to hold her breath, sending waves of nausea through her system.

“What...?” CT-7567 exclaims, puzzled. “There’s...a young girl here.”

She could tell he is surprised, as if he had never met a girl before in his life. It must be a privilege for him to meet a female of his kind. He sounded quite young for a soldier.

CT-7567 hurried to her side, dropping to his knees and his shadow covering her.

Curious, she slowly opens her eyes. She is so shocked that his T-visor helmeted face is so close to her own. She could just make out the armoured figure squatting down over her, watching her. He is clad in plain white armour with blue distinct markings.

“Miss?” he asked, “Are you all right?”

His voice was cautious but concerned.

For her.

She must look so frail. She tried to speak but nothing came out. Her feeble voice is trapped in her throat.

CT-7567 raises and lowers his gloved hand, pressing his fingers into her pale neck to check for her pulse.

She flinched and stiffens at his warm touch, too weak to brush his hand away. She is gasping in fear for her life, her heart beating rapidly and pleading silently for him to leave her in peace.

“Still alive,” CT-7567 sighed with relief at this, but frowns when he realises how weak her pulse was. “You’re cold as ice. That’s not a good sign. I should take you back and get you warmed up, miss.”

Once CT-7567 saw the fear in her eyes, he understood her feelings and quickly put his black pistol in the holster around his belt. She misses the warmth of his hand when it left her neck. “It’s okay, miss,” he reassures. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

The resonance of his voice granted a warm cloud of hope spreading in her heart.

“Miss?” he asked, his tone calm. “I need you to stand up.”

She was too weak to speak or move, much to the soldier’s confusion.

 _Please see the blood,_ she thought.

CT-7567 held her left shoulder and gently turned her over on her back. She lets out a groan and reacted with a hiss. He immediately fell quiet when he noticed her shirt was covered in blood.

“Oh, no...” he gasped, barely audible.

Much to his shock, CT-7567 stood up and took a few steps back. He curses himself for his own distraction. He looked at his gloved hands and forearms slick with dark red stains, including his kneecaps where he rested in the thick pool of blood.

When she saw that, panic rose in her fast. Her head is throbbing and her breathing shallow. She is gritting her teeth when a series of coughs erupted from her throat. Her entire body convulsing with the sudden fit.

Moaning in pain, she found it hard to breathe properly and is gasping for air. Her chest is still bleeding steadily and can taste the iron on her tongue.

CT-7567 froze for a moment at the sight of the blood she splutters on the floor. His own fear threatening to overcome him when he realised, he did not carry a med-kit on his person. He tapped onto the comlink on his wrist to access the comm channels. It sparked to life in blue light with a beep. He looked directly at her. He remains calm and in control of his fear, shoving aside his own emotions.

“This is CT-7567,” he reported in a grim tone.

She is confused that the soldier would be called by an ID number instead of an actual name.

“Set up the medbay for medical attention immediately!” He ordered with a demand. “I’ve found a female civilian, but she’s critically wounded. I repeat she’s losing blood!”

A cold sweat washed over her face.

Her head swam so feverishly that the confusing thoughts in her head is babbling nonsense. She lies barely awake and breathed in a slow, laboured rate. She struggles to force a breath in her burning lungs.

Her body is in total agony and couldn’t move it at all. She did not have the strength in her anymore.

For some reason, she was still alive.

She began felt as if she were detaching from her own body. She is emotionally numb, but her physical pain was still real. She closes her eyes, letting out a slow and shaky breath.

She believed she was going to die soon.

“There’s no time!” CT-7567 shouted in response. “I’ll bring her to you!”

His loud voice startled her awake.

When CT-7567 looked down at her, he pulled out a clean rag from his utility belt and placed it on her bloodied chest.

“Hold onto this,” he said, “It’ll slow down the bleeding.”

She reluctantly did as she was told. She pressed both of her hands on the clean rag hard against her wound and lets out a sharp intake of air.

Her wounded chest stung, throbbing harder when she touched the sensitive area. She can feel her cold skin and copious amounts of sticky blood coated the entirety of her hands.

CT-7567 knew that he had no time to lose. He had to save this girl before the hemorrhagic shock alone could kill her. She looked so weak and is not going to last for much longer. He puts his arm under her head to lift her up and support her back.

She flinches again at his warm touch against her cold, clammy skin. She shook her head in desperation, hot tears brimming at her eyelids and blurring her vision into a vague mist.

She was at his mercy.

“Miss...” he said softly. “I need you to trust me now.”

Despite her feeble protests, CT-7567 uses his other forearm to scoop under her legs and heave her body off the floor.

To her surprise, she hardly weighed a thing.

CT-7567 was strong enough to carry her small frame. He rose with her in his arms, holding her close with a fierce, protective intent. She, though tense, quickly relaxes in his care.

As she lies in the stranger’s arms, she lacked the strength to resist and grew too hazy to care if he can be trusted. His forearm encircling her back, adjusting his hold over her left shoulder with his fingers curling to hold her position. She whimpers quietly, her head resting against his breastplate and her face twisted with pain.

She tried to tell him to put her down. She wanted to go home. But all that happened was that she kept her lips shut and trust her fate with him.

CT-7567 turned to the open, white entrance behind them. He made a run for it, carrying her away in his arms. His heavy breathing is mixed with his frantic footsteps. His running was bouncing her up and down in his hold. They burst through a couple of sliding doors, immersed in bright white floors, walls and fluorescent lights.

She whimpers, screwing her eyes close and shying away from the blinding light. The strong smell of disinfectant in the air wafted in her nostrils.

She is too busy gasping for air, choking on her own breath.

Deep inside, she was in constant, intense pain. The burning in her chest hurts her so bad. It was becoming unbearable, too much for her. She is pained by his movements. The urgency of his actions had the tears in the corners of her eyes leak down her cheeks that she is unable to wipe betray her true feelings.

She is unsettled to hear the constant, sharp sounds of her blood dripping on the floor and leaving a red trail behind them.

When she passes through another sliding door, she is suddenly bathed in red light and can hear blaring sirens screaming in her sensitive ears.

She closes her eyes briefly and grits her teeth to vent the pain. It was troubling for her to listen to those alarms, especially if there is an emergency alert happening around her.

Her head dipped, weariness pressing down harder on her. She kept both of her shaking hands on the cloth pressed against her throbbing chest.

Fresh pain blossomed in her wound.

She feels the cloth has dampened with her blood, leaking freshly and persistently on her already stained clothes. She grimaces at the slick, warm blood seep through her fingers.

“Hey, wake up!”

She snapped her eyes open at his request, but a futile attempt. It was a struggle for her. She is drifting in and out of consciousness. She is aware that only her mind is real.

“Hang in there, miss.” CT-7567 tightens his arms around her, shaking her up to make her focus. She can hear the gentleness in his voice as it rises. “Don’t give up on me.”

She groaned, barely responding with her laboured breathing. She turned her head to face his gaze looking ahead and scanned his helmet with curiosity. She stared into the black T-shaped visor reflecting her pale face contorted with pain.

She wishes she could see his face behind his white, blue-marked helmet.

“Come on, miss,” CT-7567 stared down at her momentarily. He spoke through the modulation in his voice. “You must get through this.”

CT-7567 is stubborn with his responses, insisting firmly she must stay alive.

She tried to focus on the soldier, but his form is melting away. She was losing control. She wanted to reach for his helmet, but her right arm was jelly.

She was too weak and numb. She had so little energy to muster up. Her strength was ebbing away. Already the darkness was growing.

Nausea filled her.

She breathed deeply; her own body was failing her.

It was worse than she expected.

She was dying.

She would be dead soon.

She knew she must not pass out. If she did, then she may never wake up again.

She blinked constantly, fighting to stay awake.

In her panic, she was coughing even more violently. Blood spluttering out of her mouth until her fit barely settles down.

A sharp wave of pain inflamed and wracked her already numb body

She gasps for air, almost choking. It was rapid and shallow. It was getting harder and harder for her to breathe properly. Her vision grew fuzzier and fogged with confusing thoughts.

She lets out a quiet moan.

It is becoming difficult for her to endure this waking agony any longer.

“Come on, girl.” CT-7567 urged her, shifting her gently to pull her close to his chest. His hand held onto her left shoulder to keep her upright. “It’s not much further now.”

The helmet he wore did not mask the concern in his voice. He seems desperate, but in control of his emotions. He knew that her situation is grim, but he refuses to lose hope.

“I need you to live.” he ordered her. “You’re still alive. Still breathing. You fight like hell to stay alive.”

CT-7567 still held her cradled against his chest, not squeezing too tightly, in a safe embrace. It seems he cannot stand to listen to her suffering any longer.

No matter how much CT-7567 tried to reassure her, his words made it difficult for her to feel anything but the fear of impeding death.

She wanted to tell him there was no point because she doubted he could save her in time.

But all she could do is mumble incoherently, barely forming a complete sentence.

She should be afraid that she is dying. But all she can feel was peace. It is not as painful as she thought it should be.

She no longer cared what the soldier wanted.

At least she won’t die alone, even in the presence of this stranger she barely knew.

“When you recover from this,” CT-7567 said, his tone softens. “I would like to know your name, miss.”

 _My name?_ She thought with confusion.

“Mine’s just a number. But I’m sure yours would be better.”

Darkness clouds at the edge of her vision. She began to slowly close her eyes. The startling cold slowly creeping in through her and her rapid heartbeat has started to slow.

No more pain, fear, confusion.

CT-7567 wanted her to stay.

She wanted to sleep forever.

“Miss...?”

CT-7567 was running when he slows his pace to glance down at her when she is unresponsive. She was barely breathing and was lying limp in his arms; her head lolling away, and her arm has slipped and fell limply from her wounded chest, hanging over.

“No, no, no, no...!” he exclaims.

The blood loss is ripping her from this existence, threatening to silence her voice and dull her eyes.

With haste, CT-7567 resumes his run, quickly turning and bolting down a brightly lit corridor. He was concerned he would not make it to the medical bay in time. Even his frantic shouting soon became muffled in her ears.

“Move it!” he blurted out, refusing to stop. “I have a wounded civilian! Out of the way!”

CT-7567 was shoving past the other soldiers, much to their protests. They were donned in similar white helmets and armour as his, except theirs have distinctive grey markings.

“Hey, watch it, brother!”

 _Brother?_ She thought wearily. _Were some of them related to the soldier?_

Then, she could hear shocked exclamations from the other soldiers. They must have noticed the small figure covered in blood in their comrade's arms.

“Who’s that?”

“Looks like a girl.”

“Is that blood?”

Their slurred voices sounded unusually similar...

Everything looked so bright and blurry that she could not see their faces properly.

When CT-7567 had finally made it to the medical bay, he was out of breath and wasted no time handing her over to a couple of medics dressed in white.

“Hurry!” he gasped, before shouting. “She’s barely alive!”

She didn’t want to leave him.

She didn’t know these other strangers. She was already missing her saviour’s presence and could not force her numb arms to reach for him.

CT-7567 takes off his helmet and tucks it under his arm. He was breathing heavily and wiping off the hot sweat from his forehead.

Before she could see his face, her eyes, she fought to keep open, have finally closed to embrace the welcoming darkness.

In the short time of her awakening, she wished that she had more time.

As she slips into the depths of unconsciousness, all these questions shot through her mind. One of them she most desperately needs answering, the one she clung onto when her mind had sunk into oblivion.

_Who am I?_


	2. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was close to death, but not quite there yet.
> 
> Her fragmented memories were unravelling in her nightmare, people she thought to be fictional were familiar to her.
> 
> An evil shadow desiring her dead.
> 
> She was awake, but she was not alone.  
> She thought she was dreaming, but it felt real enough to make her afraid.
> 
> Was she seeing aliens? 
> 
> Or has she simply gone insane?

_She is surrounded by the darkness again._

_This time, the darkness is much different than the first when she came crawling out of oblivion. She still has no memory of where she came from or who she was before this moment. It had taken its stranglehold, constricting her life, and consuming her memories that are becoming forgotten dreams._

_She stood tense and at ready._

_Out of instinct, she reaches tentatively out into the darkness. She uses both pale hands to sweep it aside, miraculously clearing the dark clouds away so she could see the houses._

_The grey neighbourhood around her is an island on a sea of darkness. It is shrouded in thick fog where all the roads lead to an endless void, hiding lies and secrets._

_She is drenched under the pouring rain with the water flooded up to her knees. She is concerned that she may fall in because she cannot see her feet._

_It felt so real._

_Yet, she feels so numb that her other senses are non-existent._

_She had no idea how she came to be here, but strangely she didn’t question it. For some reason, this place felt...familiar._

_She looked around with wide eyes, her chest heaving, and her breathing shaking with fear._

_There were no other people around. Not a man, woman, or child. They have all mysteriously disappeared._

_She was the last person on Earth._

_She blinked, confused. She closes her eyes, her head hurting so much from digging forcefully in her mind for answers._

_When she opens her eyes and looks up, she widens with shock and gasped, exhaling a single cold vapour in the still air._

_It was supposed to be the evening._

_But there are no white, twinkling stars in the sky. They, including the moon, were snuffed out of existence._

_It is not an adventure._

_It is the end of the world._

_Everything has changed. It was lifeless and silent like she is trapped in the netherworld of the dead._

_She wandered around, totally lost and alone in this hazy realm. She follows the pavement, wading through the flood, passing the empty houses._

_She was looking for something, someone for some urgent she cannot recall before._

_She needs help._

_She desperately needs someone to help her._

_She racked her brain for a moment, trying to remember what this place is when she saw a word on a tall sign that she spotted._

_Rithhope._

_She realised that this small, sprawling village is her hometown she loved. It is known for its historic significance in Scotland._

_But where was her house?_

_Then, the streetlamps were suddenly glowing a brilliant white one by one on her side of the street, trying to lead her to somewhere._

_Somehow, it was like the lights were responding to her question in her thoughts._

_She started sprinting along the illuminated path, her caramel hair whipping about around her face. She sees a big, beautiful house at the end of the street close to where the grey field with trees are. The windows are alight like a beacon in the dark, indicating the life inside._

_As she ran toward the house, the mist clears away to reveal a black Mercedes-Benz car parked out on the front drive. She skids to a halt and dawdles on approach when she suddenly hears a voice echoing in the air._

_This time, she can see someone standing outside._

_There was a middle-aged man; dressed in a thick donkey jacket, jeans, and hiker boots. His tweed flat cap covers most of his head. He is neither too tall nor short enough for her to think about his height. His build was surprisingly good for his age. He marches out of the house for the car, fishing for something in his pockets._

_“Where are those damn keys?” he grumbled._

_She stood firm and unmoving, staring at the man near the black car._

_“Hello?” she asked meekly, “Who are you?”_

_But the man does not answer._

_“Can you hear me?” She is gasping for breath, scared, and confused. She felt out of place, like an unwanted stranger who fell back in time. “I need help—"_

_“Daddy!”_

_A little girl, seven years old, scurries out of the front door. She is wearing a cinder rose dress with a white collar and pink ribbon around her waist. Her innocent lilac eyes glistens briefly in the light over her button nose. She has the lovely glow of caramel in her double braided hair._

_There was something familiar about her._

_“Daddy,” the little girl crossed her arms in suspicion. “Why aren’t you in the car yet?”_

_“I can’t find the car keys, sweetheart.” the man answered._

_“Have you tried the laundry basket?” She quipped, flashing the car keys at him._

_Her father smirked at this and plucked the car keys out of his daughter’s outreached hand. “Get in there, you cheeky monkey.”_

_The little girl giggled at her father before opening the passenger side door. She looked so happy and sweet, not a care for the future. She was kind and clever as well, a rare combination that could draw people to her, confident with the air of a warrior. Her eyes spoke of a beautiful soul, shining with compassion she was born to do._

_But there was something about the man in his eyes that relaxes her. Despite his stoic look, he was soft and has understated joy that would make each person feel welcome._

_Then, a little boy strolled in a swaggered manner with his hands in his pockets. But he is frowning, glowering at the pavement._

_She observed the little boy, astonished to see him so poor and thin. He is dressed in an odd assortment of casual clothes, cheap and not as nice as the little girl. His blue checked shirt has seen better days; frayed at the cuffs and a size too big. His khaki trousers looked battered and shabby. They were both too short in the arms and legs. All of them, including his trainers, looked old and none of them matching._

_She cannot help but feel pity for the little boy, as he stomps past her unnoticed._

_With a smile, the man swivels his head_ _from his car to inspect the boy. “Ah.” he sighed, “There you are, lad. We were about to leave. What took you so long?”_

 _The boy continues to stare down and remain_ _completely silent. He shrugged his shoulders and refuses to look at the man in the eye._

_The man raises his inquisitive eyebrow. He took that moment to gaze into the boy’s soul, to see the pain that his facade tried to hide with bravado in his green eyes. He is immediately suspicious to what really happened._

_"_ _How’s the old man?”_

 _"_ _Same, sir.” the boy replied._

_“Jonah?” the man prodded in an emphatic tone. He knew the answer well from the boy’s evasive behaviour._

_Jonah? She thought with shock._

_There was something about his name in the dim remnants of her memory that deeply warms her heart._

_When Jonah looked up, his face is slightly bruised. He looked ashamed as well, casting his pitiful eyes to the side._

_“What happened?” the man crosses his arms. His stern eyes remain fixed on the boy._

_"_ _It’s nothing.” Jonah insisted, looking around anxiously. “I fell over. I’m just clumsy is all.”_

 _"_ _Yeah,” the man shook his head and scoffed, “and I’m the queen of England. Seriously, Jonah, just tell me the truth.”_

_“I’m not lying.” Jonah lifts his head up. He tenses up, clenching his fists until it hurts and freezing his whole body in place. He was hesitant to speak further, his throat thickening with emotion. He found it difficult to keep self-control, to cover up his guilt._

_"_ _That’s not enough, Jonah.”_

_It was just the sight of the man’s sympathy for him was enough to release the breath Jonah did not know he was holding. His shoulders relaxed and resigned, too weary to resist the interrogation longer._

_“He came home drunk.” Jonah falters, emotion cracking in his voice. He stops to take a deep breath and lets it all out in another sigh. “He lost another job again. He hurt my Mum. She wouldn’t fight back so I called him names until he hit me.”_

_Her heart skipped a beat in her chest._

_She watches the boy with sympathy, including the man who said nothing._

_Swallowing hard, Jonah stares up at the man in front of him. He did not cry_ _once, not even a single tear to shed from regret._

_The man was quite solemn, as he rests his hand on the boy’s right shoulder and kneels to his level._

_“If this happens again,” the man assured him in a fatherly tone. “You come and talk to me. No one else needs to know.”_

_“Thank you, sir.” Jonah replied in a softening tone._

_The man receives a loose hug from the boy’s wrapped arms after those consoling words. He nods in acknowledgement and pats his back. “Just because your Dad’s a prat, doesn’t mean you should be one too. No one got anywhere lying all the time.”_

_And then Jonah was off without a backwards glance._

_“Bad word!” the little girl stuck her head out of the car window. “You said ‘prat'! I’m telling Mummy on you.”_

_“Really?” Her father leans against his car with a smirk on his face. “You do that, and I won’t take you to that movie you like.”_

_“Really?!” The little girl exclaims with excitement. “Thank you, Daddy!”_

_“And pizza as well.”_

_“I love you,” the little girl laughed a little. “Can Jonah come too?”_

_“Sure, sweetheart.”_

_There was a distinct resemblance between her and the little girl. An ice-cold feeling flowed swiftly through her stomach when she realised who it was._

_Without thinking, she knew that little girl is a younger version of her._

_She was back in her childhood. It was constant fun. She always looked forward to the sunrise and the chance to play all over again. They were one of the most wonderful memories, all those simple days that seemed to go on forever._

_“Hey, Spectre.” the little girl greeted,_ _“You excited for the arcade?”_

 _“Oh, yeah, Haze.”_ _Jonah swiftly changes his tough demeanour when he saw the little girl in the black car. His mood swiftly became happy as a smile spreads across his face._

_He transforms into the person she once knew before._

_Jonah Grey is her best friend. They were inseparable playmates who lived next door to each other. He comes up with elaborate plans to have fun, despite his problems at home. She became his anchor in that personal storm he was suffering from. They had their nicknames for each other, out of affection and respect._

_She knew these people from long ago, especially the man._

_She glances miserably at him, catching his scorching, kind blue eyes._

_And he must be..._

_"_ _Dad?” she asked, choking up._

_Her voice echoed, but the man did not respond to her._

_She is so scared that she wanted to reach out and touch him. But she cannot move. She started to sniffle, her eyes brimming with hot tears leaking down her cheeks._

_When it did not work, she tried again._

_This time louder._

_“DAD!” she cried out. Her wail was reverberating around the grey neighbourhood._

_Her father twirls around, as he and the other two kids suddenly fade and disappear from the house like evaporating ghosts._

_She was alone again._

_She suddenly felt a presence at her back. She stiffened; her breath caught in her throat and dread ran down her spine. She could have sworn someone is staring at her. She caught movement from the corner of her eye and jerked to the side to peer into the darkness, as a shape seems to stride in the fog. There was no sound but her own breathing._

_She is not alone._

_With a shaky inhale, she cranks around._

_It was a lone figure who emerges from the haze and is silently stalking toward her. He is wearing a mask with a black T-visor._

_The darkness is rippling around him, shuddering, and shifting like a transparent glitch._

_She felt an aura of intense evil emitting from him and fears for her life. She is panting for breath, filled with so much terror that she cannot move._

_The lone figure pulls out his firearm from his side and raises it to point at her, threatening her life._

_As she gapes in horror, her eyes could not stop taking in this person. She struggled to slow down her panicked breathing. The shock of fear zipping through her heart._

_She can sense his own rage and hate burning so fiercely that it could incinerate entire forests._

_He wants to kill her._

_She stands there in shock, her own terrified face mirrored in the black visor of this stranger. She raises her own hand in desperation, pleading for him to stop._

_He pulled the trigger._

_A loud, sharp bang echoed through the emptiness that it hurt her ears._

_Everything in her vision suddenly whites out._

* * *

It was pitch black.

It was a terrible nightmare when it ended abruptly.

It was truly terrifying for her now she has woken up; she is reminded she is somewhere else. She could not tell how much time has passed. But that moment of panic is something she never wants to experience again.

As she is ripped back to reality, light filters in behind her eyelids. Her body ached, throbbing stiffly all over. She can feel the soft sheets of resting in a bed, which eases the soreness that lingered in her weak body. She is covered in a blanket wrapped around her, feeling warm for once.

She is aware of another sound, the rhythmic sound of a ventilator and beeping that indicates she is still alive.

She can feel something on her face, transferring fresh oxygen into her nose and mouth to help her breathe easier. She is relieved when before it used to be an agonising struggle.

Her heavy eyes open a crack, slow at first, and then all the way. She winces in pain at the harsh white light blinding her vision and snaps them shut at once.

She is trying desperately to recall what had exactly happened that put her in this state.

_Where am I?_

_Where had I come from?_

_How long was I asleep?_

So many questions, yet so little time to answer them.

“Heartbeat faster than normal, but her pulse remains strong and stable. It must be a nightmare.”

She heard voices that suddenly cut into her thoughts and echoed in her ears. Her senses are slowly returning to her. She can finally hear and feel everything going on around her.

She is not alone in this room.

Her first reaction was fear, for she did not know who it was.

She forces her whole body to lay still, her eyes pretending to be shut so they think she is still unconscious.

 _Who were they?_ She thought.

It did not matter.

“What’s wrong with the lights?”

Their baritone voices, whom she vaguely recognised, were perhaps from that other life of hers.

This time, her curiosity hungers to know more.

Groaning softly, she slowly opens her eyes to open a peep again, squinting to filter out the brightness and sharpen the blurred images into crisp details before her.

It was bright with multiple lights in the ceiling around her.

There is also an emergency service hatch above and sealed shut as well.

She is relieved to see properly.

She can tell she is lying in a white bed in a semi-sitting position.

She has a comfortable, plastic full-face mask over her face transferring oxygen to breathe and is connected to a small ventilator on her chest. But it made her feel claustrophobic.

Beads of sweat gather on her forehead when she felt someone gently rubbing a wet cloth against her face.

It was a weird sensation, to feel someone else’s touch was immediately calming for her.

She blinks a couple of times, keeping her eyelids low as possible. Her eyes were scanning the entire room, exploring her new surroundings around her. She fought to see with her narrowed vision through her throbbing headache and fatigued mind.

She watches from the corner of her left eye on the outline of a man dressed in a white uniform standing over her. He is grasping his own hands and then moves away from her bed. He is studying the computer screen on the wall where her vital signs are on display with the stats, making that rhythmic beeping sound.

She twitches her right hand, which stung slightly with pain. She has an IV needle drip surgically inserted on top of her hand, connecting her bloodstream with a long tube linked to a couple of IV drip bags with water and sugar solutions. These must provide her nutrients to prevent starvation while she slept and hooked up to the machines.

Soon, she realised that she must be inside a hospital where she is kept in a sterile room for treatment and is on life support system. It looks nothing like any hospital she has been in before.

With courage, she dares to open her eyes further. She had to know who her doctor is and what he looked like.

From his right side, the tan-skinned man has a shaved head with lightning bolt designs streaking down both sides. He glanced over at her, his amber eyes tighten and is biting his lower lip like something had been eating away at him.

She shuts her eyes at once but leaves her eyelids partially open. She remains calm and still, convincing herself he cannot see her.

“Stupid droid.” Another voice complained. “Why do you keep failing?”

Her sight jerks to the side, watching the other man kneeling near the transparent door. He is trying to repair the computer on a weird-looking, green droid.

_I didn’t think they would be invented yet._

These two men in the room are so young and identical, same face, same height, weight, body muscle, dark hair, olive skin. They both looked quite younger than she expected, but somehow, she didn’t mind anymore. Non-threatening, she supposed.

 _These two must be twins._ She thought with curiosity.

Yet, she had a nagging feeling in her gut that it was not so simple.

The other man has brown eyes and slightly shaven dark hair. He looked like an engineer because of his thin greyish-blue tunic, yellow vest, leather gloves and boots. He is stressed out when he cannot find the problem.

“Piece of rankweed!” he complained, kicking the inert green droid. “It has to be the blasted computer codes again. Everything needs rebooting here.”

“Watch it, CS-4343!” the doctor scolded. “I need that medical droid intact to tend to my mysterious patient.”

“I can’t help it.” the frustrated engineer stood up and placed both hands on his hips. “Ever since that lightning strike, I had to help fix every malfunctioning machine all over Tipoca City. I try to rest, and I get a complaint from someone moaning his coffee is too cold.”

“We all have a duty.” the doctor said, grumbling.

“Tell that to the Kaminoans.” CS-4343 stared at the floor. “They’ve been… uncomfortable that the storm had interrupted their projects. We all thought the rough weather would pass over us like it always did.”

“I know,” With a sigh, the doctor closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That was the worst storm ever. Most of the facility was shut down. The men thought we were under attack. We had to rely on small emergency generators for days until the main fusion generator was finally fixed. It had to be a solar flare.”

“Maybe the lightning brought the girl here.” CS-4343 joked.

“Very funny.”

She was trying to listen in with the respiratory mask hissing in her ears. She is uncomfortable with the two men talking about her. She can somehow sense what they are feeling but keeps those private thoughts to herself.

She waits impatiently for both men to leave so she can sit up and process her strange situation in private.

With a whoosh, the transparent door slides open to reveal a tall, elegant being, whose bald head and neck are long as the entrance, stepping inside the room. Their white skin glistens in the light. They wore an elegant, red uniform that fits around their slender build and utilised boots.

It was an alien.

An actual alien!

She must be in a mental hospital.

Her breathing quickened, her stomach churning and her heart is thumping wildly, causing the vital sign stats on the computer screen to beep faster in sync as well. Her muscles tense up of their own accord, expecting to be dissected. It was enough to make her twitch with paranoia. It is weird to think of the word ‘abducted’ without it sounding so cliche and outdated.

She uses all her willpower to not freak out until she can wrap her head around this. It took her a while to process due to fatigue, perhaps drowsiness from the drugs.

The two men stood rigidly to attention like proper soldiers in this being's presence.

“How is our patient today, CT-6116?” the being asked.

She can hear a calm tone in this feminine voice.

_This being must be one of those ‘Kaminoans'._

“The girl is still stable, ma'am.” CT-6116 reported. His face is neutral. “Apart from suffering a nightmare, there’s still no change. I don’t know when she will wake up.”

“If she wakes up.” CS-4343 corrected.

Curious, the Kaminoan peers over to where he was working on the downed green droid's treatment analysis computer. She expresses less sign of a personality that her presence could pacify them.

“What happened to this 22-1B surgical droid, CS-4343?” the being asked.

“I don’t know, ma’am,” CS-4343 admitted, “I’m still searching for the cause. This is the eighth time the droid has malfunctioned.”

_Why are these two men called by ID numbers?_

It is so strange and confusing to her unless they are inmates or soldiers.

“I see,” the Kaminoan pivots and strolls past him in a graceful manner. “The lightning strike in the west sector was an isolated incident. We had not expected the weather to be so extreme and cause so much damage. Nonetheless, we must finish what we have started.”

Once the Kaminoan has approached the computer screen, she removes a handheld medical datapad from the standard port. She narrows her eyes in suspicion when she saw the vital sign stats are beeping and rising higher than normal.

The Kaminoan gazes over at the patient with those large black eyes with white pupils that could pierce into one's soul.

She shuts her eyes completely and forces herself to take deep, slow breaths to slow her rapid heartbeat down. She exhales slowly and softly, sending tingling sensations through her whole body. She soon relaxes under the respiratory mask on her face transferring fresh oxygen to her lungs.

“Is there anything I can do to help, ma’am?” CT-6116 asked.

“No,” The Kaminoan was too focused on her datapad to care about idle chitchat. “What you do now is absolutely no interest to me. You have no further value in this future study of mine.”

 _That was rude._ She thought with sarcasm. _High intelligence and well-versed in science equals arrogance. Clearly, she likes undermining my doctor's authority._

This Kaminoan did not care if the two identical men were with her. She barely notices them and wasn’t really looking at them. The way she talked, like she was above them all. She didn’t want anyone’s help. She controls everything, including the two men, in the room.

She cracked her eyes open for the third time today.

“Did you check all of her scans?” the Kaminoan asked.

“Yes, Nala Se,” CT-6116 replied, his hands clasps behind his back. “As far as I can tell, they’re all clear.”

With a furrowed brow, Nala Se ignored him and turned her back to stroll closer to the medical bed. She grasps hold of a syringe-looking device from the specialised equipment she carried worn around on her belt and hands it over to the doctor.

“I need a blood sample for analysis,” Nala Se ordered.

“Yes, ma'am,” CT-6116 said, almost annoyed.

As CT-6116 marches toward the patient, he is careful to hold his breath to prevent disturbing her slumber.

Her head is still limp and laid back on the pillow.

CT-6116 has the posture of a soldier. Every action he took was precise and purposeful. He reaches for her delicate neck and held her face. His callous hand was warm to the touch beneath her soft skin.

When CT-6116 had made contact, she can suddenly feel a surge of great concern for her health radiating off him. He did all he could to prolong her life, even though it was his first major surgery.

_Curiosity._

_Determination._

_A hint of discomfort, not anger, that ate at his being._

Those were the very emotions she felt after. It was not physically pain. She couldn’t tell if they were hers, but these were different, foreign to her own.

CT-6116 tries so hard to conceal his true emotions from Nala Se.

She visibly stiffened at this, resisting the urge to stretch her cramped muscles. She forces her entire body to slacken and the rest of her limbs to comply.

She cannot help but feel anxious about it.

She wondered how it was possible. She wasn’t quite a skeptic. There was no concrete evidence she can, yet she did not wish to deny that it was something. It was too complicated to explain. Especially now that she can sense such emotions from the man before her.

Over a few seconds, these emotions have died and were replaced by calm politeness.

Her mind searched for answers. Anything could have happened to her before she lost her memories.

With a sigh, CT-6116 pressed the syringe-like device against her neck that pinch her skin with a soft hiss.

This snaps her out of her thoughts, heightening her other senses.

She jolts from the pain and grits her teeth, breathing through her nose. Her face nearly twitched out of instinct. She took slow, shuddering breaths to settle her racing heartbeat.

She should have seen that coming.

She did not expect he was not aiming for her arm.

“Please wake up soon, miss.” CT-6116 whispered in her ear.

It was a plea for her.

Her hearing is accurate, sharper than anyone she knew and could pick up small whispers outside of normal range.

Once CT-6116 has taken a blood sample, he dabs gently at her throbbing, pinprick wound with a clean cloth and covers it with a white patch. He marches away from her with the metal vial containing her blood in his hand.

She shifts her narrowed gaze to the Kaminoan's direction. She is trying to focus her blurring vision on her face.

Nala Se was examining her, expecting a response. She returns to her patient’s side, looming over her.

She can sense the Kaminoan is growing impatient with her patient’s lack of recovery.

She kept her mouth shut, suppressing her whimper. She fought to still her trembling body and ignore the cold vibe creeping up along her spine.

For a dedicated doctor, Nala Se cared more about her duty as a professional than her patients.

She took notice of the handheld medical datapad in the Kaminoan’s three-digit hands when a short-range white wave washes over her body. It is scanning her, sending warm and tingling sensations in a few seconds.

She froze at the sudden sensation seeping through her.

It was slow, almost agonising.

She longs to be asleep again, drift away from this unknown reality that frightens her so much.

When Nala Se has completed the comprehensive bio-scan that the white wave abruptly vanished, she checked the results on the medical datapad displaying the information analysis on her patient’s biological makeup, age, critical body functions and other factors.

“Strange,” Nala Se frowned in confusion. She studies the vital stats on the wall screens monitoring her patient’s medical condition. “No health problems or anomalies detected in heart rate, muscles, body temperature, respiration, and blood pressure. She is perfectly healthy for a child of sixteen.”

_Sixteen… It felt right. But what is my birthday?_

“I do not understand.” Nala Se glances over between her comatose patient and the medical datapad in her hands. “The patient’s vital signs are within normal limits. She should be awake now.”

 _I already am._ She smirked behind the oxygen mask. _Not so high and mighty now, are you?_

“Like I said, ma'am.” CT-6116 stated, checking the blood results on the computer. “Nothing has changed for the patient in the past six days.”

_Six days?_

_That’s how long she was unconscious for?_

_Why she cannot remember a damn thing then?_

Nala Se strolls from her patient to join CT-6116 by his side. She inserts the medical datapad in the computer’s standard port to transfer the recent, scanned medical information from it. She waits for the upload to be compared to the bio-scan’s library of over eighty-six thousand alien species.

_Bloody hell._

_There’s that many alien species?_

_What reality did I wake up into?_

Once the computer beeps in confirmation, Nala Se concentrates on typing away on the touchscreen. She studied the notes on her patient’s file from species, gender, weight, height to the medical history. She scrolls through the pages for any previous anomalies in metabolic, chemical and hormonal levels, along with any diseases and viral infections detected.

“It is done,” Nala Se confirmed this diagnosis, her tone unchanged. “The patient’s current file is updated and saved in the permanent medical record. Until the previous one is found, it will remain non-existent.“

Everything except her name and point of origin.

CT-6116 raise his eyebrows at this but said nothing. He purses his lips thinking about something. He clears his throat and clasps his hands behind his back.

“According to the blood test,” he explains, keeping his rigid stance. “There's no side effects from the blood transfusion. The patient was critical, but her chances have improved after the surgery.”

“Yes,” Nala Se replied, “It is fortunate the clones and our patient have similar blood types.”

“She did lose a lot of blood,” CT-6116 nods his head in agreement. “I can’t believe CT-7567 insisted on volunteering his own to save her life.”

Of course, the blood...

There was so much of her blood lost.

It was nothing compared to the blinding pain radiating from her open wound. She was choking on her own breaths and her damaged lung was aflame.

She could have died convulsing in agony and bleeding out alone on the floor inside that lonely passageway.

She must be on powerful medications to treat and not feel so much pain and discomfort.

She still could not remember how it happened, not even who her saviour was.

“It was unnecessary,” Nala Se said, “We have sufficient blood banks, but I must commend CT-7567 for his quick, valiant actions. We were not wrong about his potential. He has proven to be a highly efficient soldier and leader. I should recommend him to the Prime Minister for additional special training.”

CT-6116 regards this news with a proud grin, thinking about this person. His expression was genuine rather than faking it around this Kaminoan doctor.

But when CT-6116 turns his head to focus on her, he realises he was standing closer to his patient. He immediately became grim and subdued.

“I agree,” He said, still troubled. “That girl was lucky to be alive. All that severe internal bleeding from a single gunshot wound in the chest.”

_What?_

_I was...shot?_

The phantom pain flares up in her chest.

She felt a sudden strong feeling of unease.

She is alarmed by the discovery, unable to control her frantic breathing under the respiratory mask. She breathes through her nose and grits her teeth down to vent her fear and confusion.

_Who had tried to kill me?_

_What could I have done to make someone want to kill me?_

The word ‘kill’ alone was enough to make her feel sick to her stomach.

She wanted to block their words out of her head, but she was too curious to not listen.

“Who is the shooter?” CT-6116 pondered, stroking his chin in deep thought. Then he gestures his hands in confusion. “Why haven’t the security force found him now? We need to find out who tried to kill this girl.”

“That is irrelevant.” Nala Se replied in disappointment. She glares at him in a cold and distant way professional do, for daring to ask these questions.

She couldn’t relax around such expressions. Throughout the examinations, that Kaminoan gave commands to the two men rather than requests.

“Our priority now is to ensure the patient's swift recovery so we can question her presence here ourselves. We must know why she is here and decide her place on Kamino.”

Nala Se turns to face CT-6116 and CS-4343 who both remain standing at attention.

“Keep her closely monitored.” She ordered. “I must speak with the Prime Minister. Inform me as soon as possible when the patient awakens. It is in her best interests she does not leave the infirmary, especially without an escort. Resume your rest and other duties in the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am.” CT-6116 and CS-4343 said stiffly, knowing their place.

Nala Se stood two feet away from the bed, her expression remaining indifferent.

She didn’t like this Kaminoan doctor, anticipating being tested and prodded again. Nala Se is cold and alien, that’s all she needed to know. Her left fist curled under the blanket. She wanted to step out of her bed and run for it. She knew why this doctor is untrustworthy and unsympathetic to her well-being. All Nala Se cared about is fulfilling her duty, that she was better than everyone else.

She was a distraction, an expendable outsider who is not to be trusted.

With the supervised examination ended, Nala Se shifts her eyes to the transparent door. She strolls gracefully toward it, pressing the buttons on a nearby panel to let herself through the opened doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!
> 
> Forgive the terrible delay. Curse my writer's block!
> 
> Once I began the second chapter, it took me ages to write out and proof-read it, much to my own frustration. It was around 8000 words when I finished so I decided to split it into two chapters, so the next one should be quick to publish soon this week.
> 
> Each chapter published should be at least 4000 words to save time.
> 
> I appreciate your incredible support and wonderful comments on this story which encourages me to write more.
> 
> Thank you all and stay safe! :)


	3. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She is afraid for her life.  
> It is no ordinary hospital.  
> No one can be trusted.  
> She must escape. She has no choice.

She was relieved when the Kaminoan has finally left, but she is weary of the two identical men in the room. They were relaxed without their supervisor's cold presence.

With a sigh, CS-4343 stood in silence when his eyebrows knits together and started dragging the heavy, inactive 2-1B medical droid across the floor. His eyes were burning with irritation. “I better get this stupid droid repaired or I’ll never hear the end of it. Blasted scrapheap.”

As CS-4343 grumbles away, CT-6116 kept a straight face and patiently studied his patient's profile on the computer screen. He is debating whether or not the patient is at risk after undergoing the evaluation.

“Don’t know why Nala Se was so harsh on you.” CS-4343 said, dropping the green medical droid. “You did a good job with that girl.”

“Not really.” CT-6116 frowns, remembering what he had done. His shoulders slumping. “I...made a mistake.”

“You?” CS-4343 exclaims in disbelief. “How? The girl was saved in time and is in complete recovery thanks to skilled medics like you.”

“And extreme luck.” CT-6116 shook his head and spins around to face his identical twin. “It was happening so fast that it didn’t occur to me.”

“What do you mean?” CS-4343 asked.

“It was my first time.” CT-6116 inhaled sharply, almost hesitant to explain. “That girl was suddenly brought to me critically wounded and was losing a significant amount of blood. My first response was to seal up her wound with a bacta patch.”

“So?”

CT-6116 was so ashamed that he bows his head and avoids eye contact. “Her life signs were still dropping. I didn’t understand it until the medical droid had detected a foreign slug in her chest.”

“A bullet?” CS-4343 exclaims.

“It was too close.” CT-6116 looked over his shoulder at his comatose patient. “I nearly lost her. I managed to surgically remove the bullet out of her chest before it could claim her life. It had missed her heart by a few inches. I applied another bacta patch to repair the internal damage that tore through her left lung.”

CS-4343 winces at that.

“I stopped the bleeding in time.” CT-6116 continues, his words grew bitter with distaste. “But Nala Se wasn’t impressed with my mistake. She held it against me ever since. I have to do better in the future. If that med droid didn't detect that bullet...”

“Who cares?” CS-4343 shrugs his shoulders. “You saved that girl's life.”

“No.” CT-6116 shook his head. “If I wasn’t thinking clearly without help, she would have died and it would’ve been my fault.”

“Come on, CT-6116,” CS-4343 scoffed. “She’s still alive, thanks to you. Be happy with that.”

She senses the overwhelming guilt weighing heavily upon the medic. It lessens now, the less he thought about the past. He cared about her. Despite his own exhaustion, he is not willing to let her die because of his mistake while he still lived.

She is surprised by his empathy. She wanted to sit up and express her own gratitude to him. But she lacks the courage to speak and suppresses the urge to move her frozen body.

“How did this happen?” CT-6116 asked, racking his brain for answers. “What’s strange is that it was a ballistic slug from a slugthrower pistol, instead of an energy bolt of a blaster. That sort of firearms is primitive compared to our blasters.”

“Primitive, but lethal.” CS-4343 stated with a serious expression. “Even a solid projectile alone is still deadly. It tears right through the flesh at high speed and makes the victim bleed so rapidly. Very nasty.”

CT-6116 widens his eyes in response. He exchanged a look with his identical twin and stared down at his patient to distract himself.

“For that girl to endure so much agony...”

Disgust was written on their faces.

CT-6116 narrows his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest. “Whoever the shooter was is no friend of mine.” he said, his tone becoming cold.

“Nor mine.” CS-4343 agreed. “She's just a kid.”

CT-6116 inhales a deep breath and clenches his fists, digging his nails into his palms. “How can anyone aim a firearm at an innocent girl and pull the trigger?” he asked, barely containing the unfamiliar rage he feels. “What monster would want to make her suffer so needlessly?”

CS-4343 shrugs his shoulders, not knowing the answers to his twin's questions. He glances around to check no one else has heard them. He marches over to the medic before his twin can be more upset and places his hand on his shoulder.

CT-6116 flinched at the contact, but it helped snap him out of his conflicted thoughts.

“Calm down, brother.” CS-4343 urged. “I don’t have the answers. But I do know getting angry about it isn’t going to change anything. It’s not your fault.”

After that, CT-6116 felt lightheaded when he relaxed. He realises he held his breath and exhales with a quick gasp. He even felt his aching palms where his nails had dug into. “It must be someone who hated her.” he concluded, letting it sink in. “She must have seen him. She was shot in the front at close range, that’s two feet away from where the shooter stood.”

Curious, CS-4343 also joined in to stare at the comatose patient. They barely knew her, yet she was somehow becoming an important part of their lives. They were totally unaware she is watching them and listening the whole time.

“Why is she still unconscious?” CS-4343 asked.

“I can’t give you a specific diagnosis at the moment.” CT-6116 didn’t like talking about the reality of his patient’s situation. Nor does he wish to pretend otherwise without being blinded by his own delusions. They can only go so far. “She appears to be undamaged physically. Her wound has responded well to treatment, but her recovery time is two days outside the acceptable deadline.”

“Will she live?” CS-4343 asked, growing concerned.

“I would think so.” CT-6116 shook his head and sighed, lamenting over his patient's state. “We still don’t know her name. There’s so much we don’t know about her.”

As the two men ponder in uncomfortable silence, they reflect deeply on the events that happened six days ago.

“Ever since that night...” CT-6116 said, quavering a little. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“That lightning strike was a strange anomaly.” CS-4343 felt a sense of dread from recalling a terrible nightmare that came true. “It was disturbing that it overloaded the whole facility on Kamino and blew up a couple of the static discharge towers. With the security and communication systems shut down, the scanners couldn’t detect anything off-world for days. We thought we were ready for anything, except we weren’t.”

“That poor girl...” CT-6116 mused sadly. “How did she get here during the chaos?”

“It had to be a stealth ship,” CS-4343 theorised, “This guy could have dumped her while we were distracted.”

“No,” CT-6116 argued, shaking his head. “The whole timing of it is totally random. There’s no way the shooter could predict when the lightning strike would hit without us seeing him arrive and leave.”

“Maybe an escape pod?" CS-4343 continues to search for real solutions. "Or perhaps a droid must have brought her through the glass corridor—"

“It wasn’t a stealth ship!” CT-6116 clutches the bridge of his nose in frustration.

His twin's frown deepened.

“We just don’t know.”

Exasperated, CT-6116 places his hands on his bald head. He was already stressing out. “The Kaminoans had already sent the security force troopers to investigate if there were a second intruder hiding somewhere in Tipoca city. Still nothing.”

“How it happened,” CS-4343 said, imagining the true scenario totally different from the patient’s perspective. “That girl was shot and was left to die in the west sector.”

CT-6116 lets out a groan and decided to stop the discussion before it can go further. He pivots to his twin, almost stumbling over his steps. He is somewhat glad his twin has finally cease talking.

“I know.” he yawned, sounding as tired as he felt.

“When did you last slept?” CS-4343 asked.

CT-6116 looked up.

“What?”

“You know,” CS-4343 said, “Close your eyes, have a dreamless sleep and wake up feeling refreshed?”

CT-6116 has closed his eyes and is rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked tired as well, wondering how long he had gone without sleep when another yawn escaped out of his mouth. “It’s...difficult to keep track when I’ve been on constant night shifts in the past few days.”

“I don’t envy your job.” CS-4343 joked, giving him a playful punch in the arm.

CT-6116 chuckles at that, as his twin wraps his left arm over his shoulders.

“Take some rest, brother.” CS-4343 urged in a soft tone. “I need to train to be a first aid specialist so I can help my comrades in battle. In the morning?”

CS-4343 releases his brother, pivoting toward the transparent door. He waves over for him to follow.

But CT-6116 stops to glance over his shoulder at his patient, suddenly hesitant to leave. “Will she be alright?” he asked, his tone kinder. He was still uncertain about her future. “If she goes and I’m not there...”

“I’m sure you did all you could.” CS-4343 assured him. “The rest is up to her now.”

CT-6116 was watching her for a couple of moments, reluctant to leave her alone before he left the room with his brother for bed.

The ceiling lights immediately dims after the two men's departure.

Once the transparent door has slid shut, the empty room she is in was silent apart from the beeping from the vital stats on the computer screen and the rhythmic sound of the ventilator.

She is too scared to move, fearing that if someone were to return in the sterile room and discover she was awake the whole time. Especially a Kaminoan, whom she could barely tolerate from their cold, intimidating presence.

She realises that she is holding her breath.

With a gasp, she snaps her eyes open and is staring up at the dimly lit ceiling, including the emergency hatch. She blinked, her eyelashes faintly battling against her lids, debating whether she should get up. She reaches to rub her eyes when the IV drip in her right hand tugged sharply and stung her for a while.

As her blurry vision clears, she shifts her head to the left to glance at the chronometer on the nightstand beside her.

It was late.

She sighed at that.

Worry gradually gave way to relief.

No one would be coming in at this late hour.

She notices her dishevelled, bright caramel curls were scattered across her pillow.

She looked around, taking in the dark, private medical room, despite the oxygen mask strapped to her face in her peripheral vision. Every breath she inhaled and exhaled was a fresh gift from the small ventilator resting on her chest.

She is searching for something familiar, scanning the vials, medical equipment and tools on the shelves above a large mirror and a metal sink, the advanced computer monitors, a desk where a pile of bloodied clothes are resting on a metal tray, and a single closet in the far right-hand corner.

There are no windows to view the outside world either, which is quite odd.

_What is this place?_

It does not look like an ordinary hospital. She must be in intensive care at a local mental institution.

The hospital bed was comfortable, the mattress and pillow were soft enough for her to sink in and relax. But she cannot afford to rest when there are questions that need answering for her.

She sits up straight on the bed, grimacing at the discomfort that ached in her bones. She groaned when a twinge in her chest stops her. Her wound has not quite healed underneath the thick bandages wrapped around her chest.

She started to suck in deep breaths slow and steady. She is so tired and irritated. Her body was so sore and stiff when she moved. Her back aching, her shoulders popped, and she had to stretch her cramped, restless muscles.

The blood loss has weakened her so much.

Although groggy from the deep sleep, she has enough energy to stay awake and alert.

She has a deep, crawling hunger. She is ravenous for food and has not ate a morsel since before the first night.

She lets out an exasperated sigh. Her left hand stretches over the white linen and closed on the thin, clean fabric. She lifted the sheet off her, revealing her regular clothes have been replaced and is wearing blue pyjamas. They do not fit her right, too big for her.

She reaches to gingerly touch her bandaged chest and winces when she placed her hand where her wound is.

It is still sore.

It must be where she had the emergency surgery to remove the bullet from her.

She frowned at this, pondering for a moment.

She had been shot.

She did not realise she was.

She has a splitting headache and her throat is dry as a desert. She groaned, raising her left hand to nurse her warm forehead.

She furrows her brow, trying to remember from before.

The last thing she remembers is...

Nothing.

When she looked back, it was a dark unknown.

She didn’t remember anything before she woke up in that glass corridor.

She has no idea who tried to kill her.

If she had seen her attempted murderer, she could have him locked up straightaway if not for her own faulty memory.

She should know who she is usually after waking.

It was worse.

She cannot think of a name that belongs to her.

It was chaos inside her head.

Her strange dream showed her in the middle of a neighbourhood called Rithhope, her father and best friend she is supposed to know, the shadow man who shot her, and then a bright light…

But there is nothing in it that proves if those previous memories are real without physical evidence. It was a sense of familiarity, a feeling more than anything else. She did not know anything and sat there in that hospital bed all alone with no hope.

Did she have a family? Brothers or sisters?

She would not know her own mother, if she had one that is.

Frustrated, she threw the confusing memories back. They were beyond everything she can piece back together. She was alone before, but then she felt ever more so. She has nothing but sadness and emptiness to live with. The walls seem far away, and she felt trapped, tethered by tubes.

She shifts her attention to the IV drip inserted into her right hand that caused the stinging when she moved it. The same medicine feeding her nutrients and dulling her pain is coursing through her veins.

She took a deep breath and grabs the IV needle line in her right hand to gently pull it out.

_Gross._

She winces sharply, causing her to whimper a little.

She soon removes the IV needle from her right hand underneath the bandage and flicked it away.

She grimaces when she nurses her sore and tender hand. It has a slight bruise around the site where the needle was inserted.

She was touched by how much those two men genuinely cared about what happened to her, but uncertain they were willing to help her out. She didn’t care if she were in trouble with her medic.

She just wanted to be free of being tethered up like a helpless invalid.

She pulls and removes the respiratory mask from her face, no longer breathing in the pure oxygen. She lets out a small cough as the exposed air ran down her dry throat. She must have been on the oxygen mask to be safe since they brought her here.

It did not hurt when she coughed this time. No traces of blood came spluttering out of her mouth.

She is relieved to be alive, despite wishing for death.

She would say anything if it meant ending the terrible pain.

She yawns and stretches her arms above her head. She scrunched up her nose at the smell of strange medicine-like disinfectant wafting around her.

She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and shifted close to the edge of the bed, her sight not leaving the transparent door. The hallway outside of it is still quiet and empty.

She drags her feet off the bed and watches her legs dangle above the hard floor.

Slowly but surely, she pushes herself out of bed and lets her bare feet hit the cool floor.

Feeling dizzy, she stood up and balances herself with her outstretched arms.

Her drugged drowsiness has still not left her.

She wanted to stand longer, but her weak legs were about to give way.

She spots the metal sink with the large mirror and stumbles across toward it on the other side.

She was slightly disorientated.

As she held onto the metal sink for support, she is startled to see a face glaring back.

She gasped involuntarily.

It was her face.

She studied her reflection in the mirror, curious of her forgotten appearance and took a moment to assess the image staring back at her.

She looked so pale but has colour in her cheeks. Her button nose is cute, but her eyes stood out as they were naturally a violet hue colour. Her shining caramel hair was a mess. She ran her fingers through the long wavy locks out since she cannot see a brush to use.

Apart from exhaustion, she was quite lovely for a teenager.

She places both of her hands on her face, examining her own features. As if she were a stranger to herself, barely recognised. She tries to place it. But no matter how hard she tried, she cannot recall.

She suddenly felt this sharp, surge of pain run through her body. Her knees buckled up, causing her to tumble to the floor.

_Her mind was still fuzzy._

_At first, she did not know where she was, but then it all came pouring back to her._

_A torrent of clear, rushing memories._

_She saw her actual reflection in the black t-visor looking at her as clear as day._

_Confusion..._

_Bleeding from her chest..._

_The never-ending agony..._

_Fear of death..._

_Accepting the inevitable..._

_She was safe in his arms..._

_His desperate run for help..._

_His baritone voice encouraging her to stay alive..._

_The white, blue-marked soldier..._

_CT-7567..._

As though the images were the trigger, she was out of breath and bemused with reliving those moments. She held her stomach and groaned, pain scattering on the surface of her skin. She took a deep breath and straightens herself up.

She felt sick.

She tried to force down the bile rising up her throat, but it was too late.

The wave of nausea that hit her was so intense she hardly lurched forward over the metal sink before her stomach contracts and spews everything out. It burst from her throat, practically choking her.

Hot tears spilled from her eyes.

She retched until only clear liquid was coming out. She coughed until she was gasping for breath.

The pungent stench invaded her nostrils and she heaved even though there was nothing left to go.

Her throat felt sore from the stomach acid that was laying it and her mouth tasted of vomit.

She surveyed the mirror with her watery eyes and realised that her face was white and dripping bile, sweat and tears.

She was feeling weak, though she was quite energised.

She rotates the cold tap to wash away the traces of vomit down the drain. She scoops up the running water with both hands. She guzzles the cold water down like a fish to quench her parched throat.

With each gulp, she savours the cool taste of the liquid drizzling from both sides of her dry, cracked lips and licks them.

She wiped at her mouth, acidic residue forming a shiny patch on her blue sleeve.

She is satisfied that she is no longer dehydrated.

She rests her wet hands against the metal sink until her body eventually stops shaking all over. She goes quiet and still for a time, letting the feelings of fear and sadness ebb and flow. She took deep, rhythmic breaths to relax her tense muscles and counts her blessings one by one, quelling her anxiety.

She nurses her throbbing headache, trying not to think what she has left behind after expelling her guts out. That flash of memory from her past was so vivid, a jumble of images and words, but she cannot quite make any sense of it.

She was slightly pale when she realised what her recent memory was.

How utterly powerless she had felt.

What happened after she passed out at least?

She wonders where her saviour was, what he looks like or his real name?

She knew he must be a soldier like the other two men.

She owes him her life.

Her lilac eyes fell upon the grey, storage closet behind her in the mirror. She decided to phase her questions out of her mind and think of a way of escaping this strange hospital.

She has been abducted from her home and imprisoned here for six days.

She must go home.

But first, she needs proper clothes.

She looked like a crazy mental patient who would run around and cause trouble with her wild caramel hair and oversized blue pyjamas.

She lumbers sluggishly toward the storage closet, floundering for a moment before she found her balance again.

The drugs were slowly wearing off, but she is still tired enough to be clumsy.

There was no security lock on the storage closet, making it easier for her to grab the handles and pull both doors open.

She inspects the several pairs of tunics and trousers on the hangers: some plain, some dark and some red. She pushes aside the other clothes and chooses which to take what she needed off the rack.

She changed out of the blue pyjamas she was wearing and exchanged them for a red tunic, a crimson shirt with a strange symbol patch stitched on both upper arms and pair of black trousers.

She also quickly pulled out a simple white robe with a hood. She wore it over her borrowed clothes and tied the garment rope around her waist. She folds the loose sleeves back and pulled the hooded cowl over her head to obscure her face.

Fully dressed, she gazes at the several pairs of soft, black boots at the bottom of the storage closet.

There was a purple backpack resting in there.

It was _her_ purple backpack.

She immediately pulled and slung it on her back without a thought, containing her heavy, hidden belongings inside.

She saw a pair of pink converse shoes that was underneath her purple backpack.

These were her favourite shoes.

She recalls when one of the white shoelaces came loose and was caught in the rising escalator. She was so embarrassed with the passing shoppers that she had to tear out the end of the trapped shoelace.

Despite that, the vague memory brought a smile to her face.

She slips on her pink converse shoes on because they are the best fit for her feet. She tied the white shoelaces into neat bows.

Once she is ready, she shifts her attention to the emergency access hatch above her in the ceiling.

It was too far up for her to reach.

It is her only way out to discreetly escape from such unfamiliar surroundings.

She scurries over to the desk, pulling out the chair and carrying it under the emergency hatch.

When she glances over at her hospital bed, she widens her eyes in shock to see it was actually hovering above the floor.

The two men must have transported her in this floating bed from place to place in this strange hospital. The technology in this place is beyond advanced than she recognised from before. To think she had a decent night sleep without hearing the creaks and squeaky wheels when moving back and forth.

Nonetheless, she focuses on her escape plan than caring about the marvels of gadgetry.

She lifts the chair on top of the hover bed and nudges it underneath the emergency access hatch. She was about to climb up on the hover bed to step up to the ceiling when—

_Whoosh._

Her heart was startled when it skips a beat.

She snaps her head up to stare at where the sound is coming from.

A small, floating medical droid enters the room through the open transparent door. It has a humanoid head and torso that was supposed to make it look appealing to others.

But it was a total opposite for her.

She is so scared that she is stunned with silence and froze where she was on the spot.

“Oh.” The small droid exclaims in a calm, masculine tone, “I see you are finally conscious, miss.”

It is staring right at her.

She gaped and still stared at the droid, wondering what it was.

“I am AZI-345211896246498721347,” the droid introduces itself in a friendly manner. “But you may call me AZI-3. I will be your substitute medical droid today. Do not fear, I am programmed to help my patients. I am assigned to oversee your treatment and evaluation.”

The fear is a weight on her chest and a dull ache in her eyes, her mouth unwilling to lift past neutral. She desperately tried to hide how fearful she was of the droid.

_What is it with these people and their obsession with serial numbers?_

“This is excellent news.” AZI-3 has a curious look in those yellow optics, probing her for answers. It seems optimistic, expressing jubilation that she has recovered. “I thought you ceased functioning when your heart rate has stopped on the medical capsule. Naturally, I assumed the worst and decided to investigate.”

She swallowed, but she didn’t respond. Her fists are clenching at her sides. She bit her lip and held her breath. It felt as if someone was choking her. Her heart was racing wildly and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save her. But no one would. No one was coming for her.

“I must inform Nala Se of your awakening.” AZI-3 flew immediately to hover in front of her, the transparent door sliding closed behind it. “There are more tests to be done. We must run them at once. Return to your bed now, miss.”

Fear plastered on her face. Her eyes widened, struck with horror.

_No way I 'm someone’s science experiment!_

As AZI-3 approaches her, she shook her head in fear at the sight of the droid and raises her hands up to stop it from hovering closer to her.

She is panting frantically, her eyes brimmed with tears.

She knew she is in so much trouble.

Nothing is close to familiar.

“Please, miss. You must rest.” AZI-3 requested, raising its metal hands to reassure her. “You had lost a lot of blood. You need to rest for four to eight weeks to recover full functionality, including the necessary consumption of adequate proteins and iron.”

Sweat began to roll down her face. She quivered out and backed away from the floating droid.

In that moment, she wanted to get out here.

She tried to run past AZI-3, but it predicted her move and glides across to block her path to the transparent door.

Her heart jolts in fear.

She lets out a gasp before taking a deep breath.

“Remain calm, miss.” AZI-3 said, trying to diffuse the tension. “You are not fit to leave yet. At the risk of infection, you are not permitted to leave the sterile room.”

She is still terrified, trembling and the adrenaline is compelling her to act like a frightened rabbit. It is hard to breathe with her anxiety weighing heavily on her chest. Every time she moves, the room starts spinning.

She is trapped in the room with that thing.

She is partially thankful that the medical droid is focusing on her and is oblivious to the chair on the bed. The emergency hatch was an unexpected backup escape plan, but the problem is getting rid of this persistent droid.

AZI-3 hovers over near the desk to seize an injector off the shelf. It has a large needle and is filled with an unknown liquid in the barrel.

She is suddenly nervous.

The phantom pain in her neck flares up where CT-6116 took a blood sample from her.

She hates needles.

She absolutely hates them.

“This is a sedative,” AZI-3 explains, pulling the injector’s piston back. “You must understand, miss. I cannot allow my patients to come to harm. I must follow my protocols to ensure your swift recovery.”

 _Don’t touch me._ She thought frantically.

“Stay back.” She whimpers, failing to control the tremor in her voice. “No, don’t hurt me. Please, stay back!”

Her voice was small and hoarse, barely choking out from her throat.

Despite her fearful protests, AZI-3 hovers forward, preparing to inject her with the sedative. “This won’t hurt a bit. You’ll only be unconscious for a few hours.”

AZI-3 seems to deeply care and only wanted to help her.

But she was breathing shakily and cowering behind the bed. She squeezes her eyes shut and clamps her ears shut with her hands.

The current situation is already stressing and shredding her last nerves.

“NO!” she screamed. “No, don’t!”

The white lights in the ceiling were flickering brightly and chaotically, casting the sterile room into brief spells of darkness. Even the computer screens were filled with loud static.

She opens her eyes and turns her head toward the crackling and buzzing noise.

AZI-3 is perplexed, stopping where it was to glance up at the stuttering lights. “Oh!” it exclaims. “Another malfunction? It must be faulty wiring. I must get them fixed—"

AZI-3 suddenly halts in mid-sentence and lets out a distort cry of distress. Something appears to be scrambling the droid’s electronic brain. It clutches its own head, dropping the injector to the floor.

The constant flickering lights and buzzing are now in sync. They were becoming so close together that there is more darkness than light.

The ceiling lights continues to overload until they suddenly explode, startling her.

The burst has shattered the lights, travelling far, and raining tiny, hot fragments of glass over the floor.

She is completely concealed in the dark.

Her heart is beating so rapidly through her chest.

She sucked in a breath. She observes the malfunctioning droid while grasping hold of the white sheet, pulling it off the bed and throwing it over AZI-3 in a panic.

“I cannot see!” AZI-3 is frantic and floating around with the white sheet on him like a ghost. “Where is everything?!”

She charged at the panicking AZI-3, shoving it outside of the sterile room as the transparent door slides open for the droid.

She examines the panel on her right and began pressing in the code with the right sequence she memorised from the Kaminoan's visit.

With a beep, the transparent door slides shut with a whoosh and locking mechanism is soon engaged.

_I hate machines._

She collects herself, gasping for breath and resting her hands on her knees. They were trembling lightly. Her bandaged chest still ached with her expanding lungs greedily taking in air, but she didn’t care.

She is fully alert from the rush of adrenaline which makes her capable of withstanding pain and to run fast.

She went through in her head what she needed to do.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard unusual noises that became footsteps sprinting outside the room.

She held her breath in anticipation.

She listens for a moment, trying to locate them when sees a couple of hazy silhouettes gathering around the cloaked AZI-3 through the transparent door. Their baritone voices were too muffled and rushed for her to understand.

Then, one of them approaches the locked the transparent door and attempts to open it without success.

“Hey, open up!” the man hollered, banging at the door in frustration. “Call security!”

She felt a wave of panic.

An icy fear is shooting through her veins. Her forehead is slicking with sweat before wiping the moisture off. She shook her head, trying to make the room stop spinning and prevent the nausea take control again.

She took in quick, deep breaths to steady herself.

Her life depends on it.

She veers around and hops on the hover bed, light as a feather, and climbs up on the chair to reach the emergency hatch in the ceiling. She twisted the gold, metal wheel on the hatch, making it squeak in protest.

She grunted with each turn until the hatch finally opened up with a hydraulic hiss. It swung down, missing her head when she stepped back.

There was a ladder attached on the hatch door leading up in the darkness of the ventilation system.

She quickly scrambles up the ladder and pulled herself in. She reaches for the middle rung and pulls the hatch door shut. She twisted the metal wheel clockwise tightly, sealing the hatch door shut from the inside.

She won’t be followed.

Then, she flees into the dark maze of the service tunnels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter, as promised!  
> I had to wait to post until viewers have been satisfied with the last chapter.  
> The next one is in the early stages so expect it later.  
> I appreciate the kudos, everyone. Looking forward to more reviews!  
> Stay safe and healthy!


	4. Clones

She was lost.

She has never felt so trapped, so desperate to escape.

She was in the middle of a maze with nowhere else to go, having to climb more ladders and explore through a series of tunnels where all the paths run in every direction.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins.

She was running so fast that she thought her legs were going to explode. Her pounding footsteps echoes throughout the service tunnels, rebounding off the walls. They are large and wide enough in diameter to allow an adult to pass through the ventilation system. Both sides of the walls are alight with grate-like blinds of light, casting an ominous glow in the tunnels.

She was struggling to find a way out. To where it might be, she did not know. But she knew she needed to get out of here. But there was still no sign of an exit through these service tunnels, nothing that leads to the roof.

It made no sense.

She must have taken a wrong turn.

She lost track of time. She must have been here for hours already.

The air flow whipped her caramel hair back from her face.

At this great speed, she could barely see a few feet ahead of her. She has absolutely no idea what is waiting for her. She started cramping and her body shook uncontrollably.

_How is it possible to move this fast?_

Her mind was frantic with thoughts.

She encounters a hole in her path ahead of her and skids to an abrupt halt. She peers over from the edge and realises she was seconds from falling down to several levels.

It was a thirty-foot sheer drop.

Her eyes are wide, filled with tears. She felt a bead of sweat roll down her forehead. Her heart skipped a beat. Fear washed over her at the possibility of falling to her death because she was distracted.

She dreads to think of what could have happened.

Her eyes were shut tight in fear of falling. She collapses to her weak knees on the metal, plated floor, and shuffles back from the hole until her back is resting against a wall.

She removes her purple backpack from her shoulders and hugged it close to her chest.

Her breath came in short gasps. She was hot with sweat from running so hard and fast. Her clammy, pale skin shuddered, and her brain was starting to defocus. Even those few scoops of water didn’t quell her throbbing headache.

She was too exhausted to move.

_Keep it together._

She inhales in deep breaths, slowly easing her anxiety and yet she still shook.

She tensed and held her breath for several seconds, waiting for the chasing footsteps.

But they never came.

It was totally silent.

Nothing moved in the darkness around her. No one in their right minds would come in here without good reason.

For the moment, she was safe.

But she needs to escape fast.

The emergency service tunnels would cut ahead through the hospital, saving her time to prevent capture from the security force.

Thankfully, there are no security cameras here.

Shivers of fear ripple across her body.

She was suddenly afraid to die alone and lowers her head in sorrow. Her clenched hands, grasping her purple backpack, were darkened with layers of dust.

She felt so abandoned.

Her face was softly flushed with sleep.

The sixteen-year gap of her whole life was lost in her own mind. She didn’t know where to go. She has fallen off the face of the Earth when she woke up. Her heart sank right through her skin onto the metal floor she sat on. She buries her head in her arms, frustrated that she is nowhere close to finding the way out of these endless tunnels.

She hums a little tune.

It is familiar, but she cannot find the words that belongs to it.

A distant high pitch sound was ringing in her ears.

Something, a feeling, caught her attention.

“Haze?”

Startled, she snaps her head upright and glanced around for the source of the voice. Her bandaged chest was constricted, making her breathe hard. She sat there trembling on the floor, unable to move in case she was imagining it.

She was preparing to flee when she spots an apparition standing in the soft glow of the grate lights near her. It is no more frightening and menacing than a distortion of the light. Everything behind him a blur.

She must be hallucinating.

There was an instant when before no one was here, nor did she hear any of their footsteps, despite the fact she trekked through the service tunnels alone.

“Hello?” His voice was clear and his tone soft. “Earth to Haze?”

Her eyes met his, but unseeingly, for his face is obscured in the shadow.

_What was he expressing?_

It was a teenage boy, dressed in regular clothing, yet there wasn’t a spot of dirt on him. He was older, no more than eighteen. He was taller and his skin colour has changed from bruised pale to a healthy one.

It was her best friend.

“Jonah...?” She gasped.

The dust in the stale air made her cough.

She stood up; wobbling because her legs were weak as jelly. She rests her left hand on the wall for support.

“That’s Spectre to you, agent.” Jonah joked, his arms across his chest. “No one else can know about our secret mission.”

“What’s going on?” She finds it strange that her best friend was making no sense, playing a game when her own life is at stake. “I don’t know where I am.”

_Definitely a hallucination._

Instead of answering, Jonah began stepping on the ladder to climb down to the lower levels.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Come on,” Jonah urged her with a smirk. “I dare you to beat me.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words died in her mouth. She recalls the dare games they would do together when they were children. They would have fun out-daring each other on their make-believe adventures.

Climb great heights, swim in deep areas, running the furthest, etc.

It was sometimes...exciting.

For Jonah, it was a purpose to overcome fear and feel alive than having a boring life.

Drawing her white hood back, she slung her purple backpack over her shoulders and held on the front straps. She notices her white robe was marked with old, thick dust from her long run in the tunnels. She drags her left hand across the wall to steady herself, picking up dust and grime.

Jonah was not real, not physically.

He was a mere reflection of her subconscious.

However, she was in no mood to care. Even if Jonah was a memory, she was out of options. She didn’t know what else to do. She must go back to Rithhope. She wanted to leave this place, desperate to go back home and see her family and friends again. She couldn’t face life without them.

That is her escape plan until she can reclaim her memories. 

There was another thing that kept her going, the hope to return home unharmed.

She decided to play along and race after this shadow of a boy down the ladder.

It was a chance she must take and do whatever she must to survive.

It was now or never.

She sprinted for a time in silence, following wherever random direction Jonah seems to be going in the service tunnels stretching for miles and miles in all directions. They ran from tunnel to tunnel, climbing down level to level.

She could be going in circles.

She was hot, drips of sweat are leaking down her forehead. She shudders in the cold air breezing from the grates against her exposed face.

“I’m winning, slowpoke!” Jonah taunted, his voice echoing in the dark tunnel. “I dare you to catch up.”

“Wait, slow down!”

She was so stubborn and determined to be ahead that she lost track of where she was going.

“I dare you.” Jonah laughed. “Double dare you!”

“Shut up!” she snapped in frustration.

She was so tired of her hallucination repeating himself. His playful taunting irritated her for some reason, encouraging her to beat him at all costs.

“We’re nearly there, Haze!”

She soon came to an intersection of vents where there is a ladder in the centre. She stops before it to catch her breath, resting her hands on her knees.

As she rose to her feet, she sees Jonah ahead with his back to her. His form shimmered and wavered. She raised her hand to reach out for him.

But when Jonah turned, his face wasn’t clear at all. His mouth formed the briefest of smiles before he leapt down the hatch leading to the bottom level of the service tunnels.

Though she was nervous of following this hallucination, she nonetheless steps on the rungs of the ladder to descend below. She hopped off the ladder to land and grunted as her knees absorbed the impact of the floor.

As her vision adjusts to the darkness, she knew her way around instinctively and realises that she is standing near a closed emergency hatch.

It was a way out.

Finally, an escape from this labyrinth of tunnels.

Much to her relief, she must be already ahead since she travelled the farthest hours ago.

“Jonah?”

When she spun around to thank him, she realised he had vanished. There was no trace of him where he should have been.

It was all in her head.

Jonah may not be here, but she knew what she saw.

She stalks toward the sealed emergency hatch in the small hole and kneels down to reach for the gold wheel that should rotate to open it.

“I’m telling you. This is strange. Since that lightning strike…”

She felt her heart skip a beat.

Her hand had frozen mid-way before she could grasp the gold wheel, slowly retreating back.

When she heard voices, she went pale and took a deep breath. She kept scanning around the service tunnels, her heart beating rapidly against her chest at every noise. She was alert, wanting to stay alive as long as she can. She did not want to die.

_Have they found me?_

She stayed where she was, hearing the male voices coming from below.

“Well,” the baritone voice said, “It doesn’t explain how the patient came to be here.”

“Whoever this patient is,” the other man muttered. “He’s dangerous and has picked the wrong planet to mess with.”

She took great care to stay silent. She was invisible like an infiltrating spy. The quieter she became, the more scared she was. It would not be long before they noticed her.

She suddenly could feel their emotions through their hearts surge through her own, not just their voices. It was a much deeper feeling that one cannot sense from another being by observing their faces and mannerisms. She could have sworn to see two silhouettes of the men standing and donned in identical armour in her vision. Every syllable they speak echolocate their bodies in view inside a wide, white corridor. They are each glowing, emitting ethereal energy in sync with their heartbeats.

As she listens in, their conversation began to vibrate against her skin.

“Look,” one of the two men said, “It’s been hours and I don’t see any patient here.”

“Stop whining,” The second soldier was in no mood to listen. He was too busy concentrating on the path ahead, scanning for something out of place.

“I’m exhausted,” the first soldier complained, “We were bred to fight, not waste time chasing phantoms.”

The second soldier exasperated and exchanged a sharp glance with his identical partner. “We were _also_ bred to follow orders, not ask questions.”

The first soldier was silent, then he decided to change the subject. “I heard rumours this patient is a human girl, but this is—"

“Here? On Kamino?” The second soldier snorted with laughter and shook his head. “Like that's going to happen. No trooper here has even met a girl. Good luck finding one.”

“You know what?” the first soldier deadpanned. “Sometimes I wish I could believe it like you do. It must be fascinating.”

“Was that sarcasm?” the second soldier asked light-heartedly.

“That’s why I’m the smart one.”

“Right…” the second solider snorted derisively and tilts his head at that remark.

The first soldier had a laugh about it before he resumes to scan his surroundings in the long, white corridor. “So far, I don’t see any sign of the patient in the area. Think he will surrender?”

“Sure,” the second soldier agreed. “He’s an unarmed civilian. We have the entire city on lockdown and the Kaminoans are sealed safely in their rooms. The patient can’t survive up in the service tunnels for long. He’ll have no choice but to crawl out. The moment he opens a hatch, we’ve got him.”

“I don’t think we—" the first soldier began to speak.

Within moments, the two soldiers were immediately silent and alert to the sound of footsteps approaching them. They snap to attention at the presence of authority revealing to be another identical soldier, except he has distinctive blue markings on his white armour.

He must be the commanding officer.

“At ease, troopers.” He ordered them, which they did as told. “Status report, men. Did you two find anything?”

“No, Sergeant.” the first soldier responds, his hands clasped behind his back. “All is quiet here.”

“Don’t relax yet, rookie.” The Sergeant said in a solemn demeanour. “The scanners have picked up the girl somewhere in this area. Somehow, we cannot get a lock on her.”

The two soldiers have exchanged glances before they both turn their heads to their commanding officer.

“Sir?” The second soldier asked, sounding puzzled. “How is this possible? Why would a girl be here?”

“Hey,” the Sergeant reprimanded them sharply. “Our orders are to bring the patient in alive. That’s what we should be doing. The Kaminoans are concerned with containing this incident and keeping it quiet as much as possible to prevent a panic.”

The thought of disappointing these tall beings has sent a strong shiver of fear down their spines.

“We were only curious, sir.” The second soldier stated defensively.

The Sergeant gave the two troopers a long stare that emphasizes discretion. “Asking too many questions is.” He warned, before reminding them. “We were bred to do as we are ordered to do. Follow them and keep your thoughts to yourselves. Is that clear?”

The two troopers snapped back to their attentive stance and shouted: “Sir, yes, sir!”

The Sergeant nodded approvingly at their reaction.

She took note that these troopers must have trained for most of their lives to be absolutely loyal and to follow orders without question.

“Now, listen up, men.” the Sergeant explained directly to the two troopers. “The security teams are stationed at every access point back in the main hallway system. We know that every room in the city is fitted with emergency access hatches in the event of flooding. The girl is somewhere up there. Go and retrieve the rest of the squad for the search. I'll wait here for your return.”

“Yes, sir!” The two troopers saluted respectfully, before departing down in that pointed direction.

The Sergeant was left alone to guard the white corridor. He stood silently, pulling one of his blaster pistols from the holster attached to the utility belt around his waist. “I can’t believe I have to miss training again for this.” He muttered.

Her mind was muddled with fear.

 _How long before they find me?_ She thought frantically.

Her body feels hot.

Beads of sweat was trickling down her brow.

She can feel the sweat drench her skin down past her neck, the throbbing of her own eyes, the ringing vibrating in her ears and the thumping of her heart against her chest. She cannot hear her rapid breathing, but she can feel the oxygen flooding in and out of her lungs.

She was under stress, struggling to keep her self-control that’s distorting her thinking, including her vision of the Sergeant standing alone in the white corridor when he started appearing and disappearing chaotically in the brief spells of darkness.

No.

It was the white overhead lights that are constantly buzzing and flickering brightly.

“These damn lights…” the Sergeant said with a groan. “I thought the maintenance division have fixed this. Nothing wrong with them, yeah right.”

The Sergeant raises the wrist-com on his left arm near his helmeted face. “This is CC-1119, I need to report— _Argh!”_

A screeching noise was howling out of his wrist-com.

CCC-1119 is taken aback and slams his hand down on the electrical device to silence it. “Nothing works here,” he grumbled, his ears still aching. “Something is disrupting the electronics. Now, communications is down…”

Then, his head tilted slightly, as if he were listening for something.

Or someone?

This has caught her off guard.

She gasped and clamps her mouth shut, silencing her whimpers.

She was stepping backwards when she stumbles and began losing her balance. She tried reaching out instinctively to steady herself, but there was nothing for her to grab onto. Her heavy purple backpack pulls her back, causing her crumple to the floor.

She recoils and winces in pain, snapping her out of her vision. She found herself back in the dark confines of the service tunnels.

By then, she was in shock.

She held her breath and froze rigidly in place, too afraid to move her body.

Then, she hears a creaking noise in her ears and sat upright to see what it was. Her breath quickens as she sees the gold wheel on the hatch is turning counterclockwise from the outside.

She shifted back fearfully from the hatch and rested where she was.

 _He must have heard me._ She thought.

Her eyes were watering.

She was so afraid of the future than losing her past, knocking all her other thoughts aside. Her own imagination threatens to lose her mind to madness.

With every turn the gold wheel makes, she was more and more terrified. Her entire body went cold, enough to send shivers down her spine. Her clammy hands tremble and her fingers are curled into fists, nails digging into her palms. She thought her heart was going to explode. Her adrenaline is surging so quick she could almost vomit.

Fear was torturing her guts, churning her stomach in tense cramps.

She wanted to run fast for safety, but she remains where she is instead.

At some point, she must move.

In seconds, the gold wheel stopped squeaking in protest when the hatch popped and fell open, letting in the white light that illuminated the metal seal.

Suddenly, everything was silent.

Somebody was climbing up the ladder.

She was breathing quietly and shakily in the dark. She was careful to not make too much noise, unwilling to alert anyone of her presence.

Behind the hatch, CC-1119 lets out a sigh and pokes his head up through the hole to peer at the dark vents. He raised his blaster pistol and flicks on the double headlights, casting long cones of light to scan around with his black t-visor, identical to her saviour’s. Except it has a white arrow shape running down the forehead of his blue marked helmet.

_It was not him._

But there was an opportunity open ahead of her.

She was driven by instinct, a pure reflexive action without a single thought built on desperation.

With a burst of adrenaline, she lets out a yell and charges right at the oblivious trooper.

CC-1119 was startled by her appearance when he heard her coming for him. He shifts his attention around, barely recognising her presence. “What the—!” he exclaims.

Once she thrusts out her arms, she took the trooper by surprise by launching herself at him. His hands barely grabbing hold of her, scrambling to reach for the ladder in the empty air.

In the struggle, she and CC-1119 both scream as they tumble and fell through the hatch below them.

She lands roughly on the cold floor in a heap, crying out in pain. The edges of her vision were dark, so she shuts her eyes and blacks out for a moment.

The air was knocked out of her lungs, causing her to cough and struggle to regain her breath. She inhales rapidly and deeply, making her wheeze.

Her entire body was in shock, unable to move and forced to lie in the empty, white corridor.

She grits her teeth and whimpers as her hands cupped and nurses her sore sides. They hurt so much that it was enough to clench her jaw shut to suppress the pain and make her tears sting her eyes.

The cold, fluorescent lights on the ceiling were bright and steady, as if they had never flickered at all, illuminated her surroundings.

“Ugh...my head.” She groaned.

Her still-fuzzy mind was struggling to understand what was going on.

She rolls from her right side and rests on her front. Her back ached with her purple backpack's weight on top, and her tense muscles plead for her not to move. She props her arms beneath her to raise up from the floor.

Instant pain flared up through her body.

With a sharp hiss, she drops against the floor and hugs her bandaged chest close to her, her face contorted in agony that prevents her bruised body from moving.

Nonetheless, she refuses to give up.

She bared her teeth with little strength. She rubbed her bruises and gingerly climbed to her feet.

She was aching all over and was forced to take shallow breaths when her legs threaten to buckle under her lightweight. She did her best to shake the pain off until she has all her bearings back.

Once she had regained her balance, she finally took her first good look around the white corridor.

“No one around.” She muttered to herself. “Thank God for that.”

She intended to leave immediately, but—

_“Sergeant, where are you?”_

A voice mixed with crackled static was heard in the air.

A cold silence fell over her.

Her own pain was momentarily forgotten.

As she spun around, she widens her lilac eyes in horror at the sight of the helmeted trooper whom she pushed was lying on the floor. He hasn’t moved an inch since they fell from the ceiling hatch. She must have landed and bounced off him when they collided with the floor, which explains her lack of serious injuries, apart from suffering several bruises.

She felt a cold sweat trickle down her spine. She couldn’t breathe. Her body felt cold, deathly cold. She could feel her mind beginning to fade. She couldn’t think, concentrate. Her mind was a blank.

Suspicious and still utterly confused, she approached the downed soldier slowly with her shaking legs.

 _“Are you there, Sergeant?”_ The crackled, baritone voice asked again. _“Can you hear me?”_

There was no one else here, only the flashing green wrist-com on the trooper’s limp arm that was speaking one-way to empty silence.

 _“CC-1119? Report.”_ Another commanding voice demanded with a hiss of static. _“I repeat, report your location.”_

She grimaced when she fell to her knees as her legs gave out on her.

 _How did I managed to walk this far?_ She thought rhetorically.

She was at the unmoving trooper's side. She removes the wrist-com from his arm to examine for a moment before switching it off and pocketing it in her robe.

She needed the silence to think.

She would have run, but it didn’t matter now.

She gazed into the trooper’s t-visor where her reflection stared back at her, but she scarcely recognized herself. Her frightened face was pale and drenched in tears. Her lilac eyes were filled with despair and the dark circles under her eyes showed her exhaustion.

She hated it.

She hated herself for what she did and refuses to look away.

She knew what she did was unforgivable.

She squeezed her eyes shut and ground her teeth. Her hands were balled into fists so tight they hurt. The thought of herself killing someone was enough to sicken her with guilt to the core.

She was so terrified that the fire in her chest was setting her insides ablaze. 

She had killed this trooper out of fear and desperation. Her stomach clenches up in protest. She hung onto the shreds of sanity she had left. It was a terrible burden for her to carry and live with forever. She knew an apology cannot justify and erase the strain of guilt.

When she heard something, she thought it was impossible.

A moan.

It was quiet, but clear enough.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again.

The trooper, CC-1119, lies sprawled across the floor moaning, his chest was moving so low and his right hand was twitching a little.

_He was still alive!_

She leans over to his head in a panic. She could have wept for joy to see that she didn’t kill him.

CC-1119 hasn’t moved. His breathing was slow and heavy, but he was still groaning as if the rest of his body was in immense pain. His white, blue marked armour should have shielded him from the worst of the impact, unless he hit his head hard.

She defied her better judgement to check if he was okay.

She hesitated for a moment before she removes his down white arrow helmet to see his face.

With a gasp, she drops the helmet that clatters and rolls against the floor.

_It wasn’t possible._

_His face..._

CC-1119 was barely conscious, but his eyes were shut. He was an adolescent youth, similar to her age. He has dark hair and tanned skin as well. He looks like the other two men in the sterile room she woke up in.

_Same face, eyes, height, weight…_

_Clones._

_They were clones._

_Every one of these troopers are clones._

_Brothers…_

“Appo.” She said, even though she had never met him before. “You’re Appo… Killed…nearly killed.”

She started mumbling to herself, stringing together a series of words as if her mind wasn’t functioning properly.

Her face twisted with effort.

She grits her teeth and pressed her hands against the sides of her head. She felt terrible pain throbbing inside her head, threatening to explode.

_Her vision was abruptly flooded with vivid images of herself standing on a long, landing platform and surrounded by a dark, well-lit city._

_A burning facility was lit up by the intense flames behind her._

_She was struggling with something she couldn’t see in the night sky until the flying vehicle became visible and landed before her._

_Shrouded in black smoke, a man in a dark tunic uniform steps out to approach her. He looked important, dignified and regal somehow. His presence commanded so much authority that it intimidates her._

_She suddenly realizes she was watching everything through someone else’s eyes, listening to every sound vibrating in their eardrums._

_“What’s going on here?” the gentleman demanded, sounding concerned._

_Then, these clone troopers were approaching him beside her. Their helmets and white-blue armour were different, upgraded somehow._

_Her overwhelmed mind was in resonance with the other man's emotions that became hers. It was difficult to separate the two shared realities at once, one in the present and the other in the future._

_“There’s been a rebellion, sir.” The leading clone trooper raised his hand to stop him, blocking his path. “Don’t worry, the situation is under control.”_

_She knew it was a lie._

_The clone troopers knew whatever they were doing was wrong, but they followed their orders regardless._

_When the gentleman attempts to march through them, the leading clone trooper threatens to shoot him by raising his blaster rifle. “I’m sorry, sir.” he warned, barring him from entering. “It’s time for you to leave.”_

_“And so it is.” The gentleman said reluctantly._

_She struggled to grasp at what was happening around her. She tried to concentrate, focus on the blurry details of her strange vision._

_As the gentleman spun around for his flying vehicle, a whooshing noise cuts the air._

_“Get him!”_

_A young boy in a beige robe was sprinting inhumanly high over the startled clone troopers. He was wielding a glowing blue sword, slashing, and killing several of the soldiers. Except the leader who was wounded in the chest and struck down as well._

_The fear and pain in their cries filled her with dread._

_More of their clone brethren opened fire at the young boy. He was struggling to deflect the blue bolts back until he was overwhelmed and shot down dead before her eyes._

_“NO!” the gentleman screamed in horror, prompting him to flee to his flying vehicle._

With a gasp, she snaps back to reality and finds herself back in the white corridor again. She was still on her knees and clutching her head tightly. She lets out a whimper when an eerie, high pitched sound continues to ring in her ears. She couldn’t breathe, not noticing a tear was leaking down her cheek.

“Please, stop.” She pleads to herself. “It hurts…”

Then, the noise slowly ebbs away to silence.

The vision was more like a horrible nightmare, feeling like she could die from the pain in her brain. This sense of loss, helplessness and...betrayal?

She shook her head mutely.

It wasn’t real.

How could it be?

She shut her eyes. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wanted to go home.

A low groan startled her out of her reverie. Her cheeks were wet, and her body was bathed in cold sweat. Her breathing was slow and heavy. Her heart pounded against her chest. She lowers her trembling hands from her head.

The clone trooper was still lying on the floor next to her, unconscious but alive.

“Appo,” she said, uncertain.

It was his name, but she had no idea why.

The remnants of her vision still clung to her mind, haunting her. His face was a trigger for a memory from her past, compared to the others in this supposed future. She should be afraid, but there was a small part of her that is relaxed around these clone troopers.

Excitement.

Admiration.

But when she saw the blood was leaking out of Appo's discarded helmet, she recalled what she did and was overwhelmed with the terrible guilt again.

She clenches her fists tightly and shifts her focus to the fallen clone trooper. He may be a clone, but he does not deserve to die. She was more determined to not let it happen to him under her care. If he fell asleep, he might never wake up again.

She reaches out and held his sweating head with both hands.

In response, Appo groans at her touch and tightens his closed eyes. His face was grimacing in pain, but his body remains unconscious.

She could feel a bump forming on the back of his head, where he must have impacted it against the hard floor. She also felt something warm and sticky trickle down between her fingers over the wound behind his head. His dark hair was caked in dried blood.

Her stomach lurched when her nose caught the familiar scent of strong iron wafting in the air. She resists the urge to faint. She should be used to seeing so much blood now.

She figures out Appo must have a concussion where his grave head injury was and is bleeding underneath.

She froze with fear, unable to speak if she wanted to.

She has never felt so helpless. She doesn’t know how to save the clone trooper. He was going to die, and it will be her fault.

Appo was moaning until he suddenly stopped breathing and his body became still.

Her heart was filled with sadness and regret.

“No, no, no,” she cried, recalling her saviour's words. “Appo. Please, don’t die. You must live. You fight like hell to stay alive.”

She closes her eyes, praying naively for a miracle that may not happen.

As she tries to comfort Appo, she can somehow hear his own heartbeat thumping in her head and sense his life barely clinging onto the mortal coil.

Her head was pulsing, trying to focus on his life force.

Then, she felt it.

Something foreign and different within herself.

It was a deep feeling of something burning within her chest. A warm, tingling sensation was spreading through her veins and flowing through her fingertips. She could have sworn they were glowing for a moment, emitting golden sparkles when suddenly—

Appo drew a sudden deep breath and started coughing.

She gasped when he woke up. Her bloodied hands retreat in reflex and shuffled back from the clone trooper. She weavers slightly, tired from the unexpected energy drain.

 _What just happened to me_?

Despite her fear, she was relieved Appo was still alive and breathing. She feels this wonderful feeling of accomplishment washed over her.

Appo shook his head, reaching up to gingerly touch his aching wound where he fell. He opens his brown eyes and gazes around confused. He weakly lifts his head up to her as if she were a dream. “What…?” He muttered. “Who are you?”

She was speechless and slowly lifted herself to her feet on shaky legs. She senses his gratitude at her appearance, as if she were somehow responsible for his recovery.

Appo looked fierce, even in his injured state. He never took his scrutinised, brown eyes off her. He winced when he moves to sit up and clamped his teeth shut to vent the pain. “What are you doing here?” he demanded gently, his sweaty face inches from her face.

She watched his face and inhales several short breaths.

When Appo tried reaching for her, she shies away from him and watches him closely. She pulls her stained hood over her face to hide it and steps back.

“No, wait...” Appo protested, his words still sluggish.

Fear caused her to hyperventilate.

She almost fell to her wobbly knees but remains standing. She was about to leave when—

Her senses were suddenly vibrating inside her head that was not there a moment ago.

It was a strange feeling.

Closing her eyes, she felt four presences approaching, each carried their own unique spirit with them. She then hears their footsteps echoing nearby through the white corridor.

She snaps her eyes open with a surge of newfound fear. She whirls around, startled to see those four white armoured clone troopers. They are armed with blaster rifles and never took their eyes off her, watching her every move.

_Who are these people?_

"Halt!" One of them ordered her. "Don't move!"

She suppresses the urge to panic. She didn't move, one foot placed awkwardly back. She stood near Appo's body in an alert stance, ready to run if they come closer.

The four clone troopers skid to a stop and stood six metres away. They were staring warily at her for several seconds until they spot their commanding officer lying injured on the floor.

“Sergeant!” the first trooper exclaims, before addressing her. “What happened here? What did you do?”

She began to hyperventilate when she realises, the clone troopers have spotted the blood on her hands. She swiftly grips her upper arms, hugging her bruised sides to vainly wipe off the red stains. It did not take long before they arrive to the same conclusion.

Before she could apologise, the clone troopers raise their blaster rifles upon her.

“On the ground, now!” The first trooper demanded, threatening to shoot her. “Hands behind your head! On your knees!”

Her blood ran cold.

She breathed shakily and did as she was told, lowering herself to the floor.

The moment her knees touched the floor, she covers her head with her hands and squeezes them into trembling fists. She wanted to tell them it was an accident, but their weapons were enough to paralyse her with fear.

The clone troopers were glaring at her behind their t-visor helmet. She can feel their burning anger coursing through them, making her sick with guilt. She knew it was personal. They want to make her pay for what she had done.

“Move an inch,” the first trooper warned through his modulator. “and I’ll shoot.”

Tears were gathering in her eyes.

Her heart was beating rapidly against her white robe.

As she stared at the floor, she found it difficult to believe this was happening to her. She couldn’t breathe properly through her tight throat. It was as if the bullet were still wedged in her bandaged chest. Their blaster rifles have brought back the pain and recalled the blood leaking down her side.

A flurry of thoughts were running through her mind.

_Why does this scenario feel so familiar?_

A strong sense of unease churns in her stomach at the thought of returning to that darkness.

She retreats into her mind, numbing her emotions and detaching from reality. Her purple backpack weighed heavier down on her back. Her face was glistening with sweat and her caramel hair was sticking to her forehead under her hood.

Meanwhile, the clone troopers rushed over to their downed Sergeant Appo as soon as possible. They were kneeling down and helping him sit up on the floor, but he was too weak to stand.

“Sir, are you alright?” the first trooper asked, examining his leader’s bloodied head.

“My head hurts, Corporal…” Appo groaned, his words slurred. He was struggling to remember what happened before. “I feel sick. Everything is spinning…”

The Clone Corporal presses down on his wrist-comm, but it receives nothing but static. He glanced around at the three men in the vicinity and reaches inside the pouch around his utility belt for the limited medical supplies he carried.

“Listen up, troopers.” He said, gesturing to them who stood to attention. He was taking control of the situation. “The comms are still down. You – get a medic. Tell them we have an officer down. The rest of you, keep an eye on the intruder.”

“Right away.” The second trooper nodded, along with the other two, before he ran down the opposite corridor behind them.

The Clone Corporal began cleaning and wrapping the bandages around Appo's head, compressing the wound comfortably. He flinches at his touch, forcing himself to remain still.

Once the bandaging was done, Appo grits his teeth when he attempts to stand up, but he drops back down to the floor.

“Easy, sir.” The Clone Corporal urged. “You have a concussion. I recommend you stay where you are until the medics from the 501st arrive. We’ll ensure the intruder is punished for this. Attacking a superior officer is a serious offence.”

“No!” Appo interjected, immediately grabbing the Clone Corporal’s forearm. “Corporal, stand the men down. It was an accident.”

“Sergeant?”

“She’s just a scared kid.” Appo exhales a deep sigh, his voice straining to speak. “She…she just fell on top of me…She’s the patient, not an intruder.”

“What...?” The Clone Corporal exclaims, gesturing to her. “That’s her?”

She snaps out of her daze to meet his dark, reflective t-visor. She dared not to move a muscle in her crouched position. She didn’t want to go to prison for a crime she didn’t commit.

The clone troopers would have not recognised her under the hooded robe if it weren’t for her pink converse shoes. They stood there staring at one another.

“Then the rumours are true.”

“What are we going to do with her?”

“We must take her back, men.” The Clone Corporal said, standing to his feet. “Our orders are to bring her in alive.”

Ice flows in her veins.

She eyed the clone troopers, watching as they approach closer toward her. She couldn’t focus on their helmets, her vision blurry and distant. Her eyes widened like a frightened rabbit and her breath was trapped in her throat.

“Look at her.” One of the troopers stated. “She’s afraid of us.”

“Be careful.” The Clone Corporal advised calmly, “Better use the binders. She might make a run for it.”

The Clone Corporal raises his hands in reassurance and removes a pair of shiny handcuffs from his utility belt.

“No, no, no, no!” she muttered; her face was contorted in horror.

Their blaster rifles reminds her of a firearm, loaded with a full magazine...

The hairs on her arms stood on end when a strange electric warmth ran though her body.

A loud, high-pitched buzzing sound suddenly filled her ears like a swarm of angry bees.

She grits her teeth and covers her ears.

The clone troopers were distracted with the noise and stopped three metres away from her. The next sound in that moment was white noise so intense it shocked and assaulted them. They let out a pained yell and dropped their blaster rifles with several clacks. They instinctively whipped their hands up to cover the sides of their helmets. The three men doubled over in pain on the floor, unable to cover their ears. Their screams were barely audible over the noise vibrating in the white corridor.

Without his helmet, Appo sat confused on the floor and was forced to watch his men suffer in agony.

She could feel his anxiety radiating and washing over her.

_Was it an EMP pulse affecting their external audio?_

Then, the overhead lights were flickering constantly. She was too distracted with blinking at the lights. They are so bright to her now until it abruptly became darkness.

_She was suddenly trapped in a waking nightmare; distorted and intense. She was struggling to think. She was staring at the barrel of a revolver aimed at her. It has a rotating cylinder with multiple chambers. The metal tab was manually cocked by a gloved hand, ready to pull the trigger._

_She was in fear for her life._

_This memory fragment feels so real it must be true. It could haunt her in her nightmares for years to come._

_“It's not true...” she whimpered, raising her right arm. “Don’t do this!”_

_“If I can’t have you, then no one will.”_

The gunshot was so loud she screamed.

The moment the loud bang came, the overhead lights had overloaded and exploded into darkness. The buzzing noise suddenly subsided, followed by falling hot glass fragments.

The clone troopers were enveloped in darkness when they backed away in shock.

Appo had to crawl back against the wall.

She glanced around, gasping for breath. She tried to push down the urge to panic. It didn’t occur to her at first, she had snapped back to reality. She stood up unsteadily to her feet and adjusted the straps of her heavy purple backpack.

As she takes a step back, one of the clone troopers quickly slams his hand on the red emergency button on a nearby wall. The alarms began to blare, the sound bouncing off the walls, and the whole corridors have flashed red.

Adrenaline and terror shot through her; her instinct of self-preservation was kicking in.

In a split second, she whirls around and bolted for it, away from the threat. She had new energy in her limbs with a new sense of urgency. It was something she has never felt like anything before.

As she sprints down the red corridor, she hears baritone voices shouting after her.

“Wait! Stop, miss!”

“Don’t run!”

“We’re trying to help!”

She knew the clone troopers are chasing after her.

She didn’t look back; she dares not.

Otherwise, she would trip and fall down.

Her mind went blank in the depths of her hysteria, but determination remains in her heart. She picked up her pace in desperation and ran fast, pushing herself harder than before.

As she ran forward, their footsteps fell further and further behind her.

She will do whatever it takes to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me for keeping you waiting so long.  
> It’s been a long, crazy year.  
> Here’s the next chapter and I’m currently working on the next one.  
> I’m excited for the new Star Wars multiple series next year! :D
> 
> Stay well and happy new year everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at a Star Wars fanfic. :)  
> I noticed there is not enough Earth/Fourth wall content on the fanfiction sites. I created my own so i could get it out of my imagination and on the story. Enjoy everyone and stay safe!


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